


When the Clock Strikes Found

by DLanaDHZ



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-09
Updated: 2008-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:58:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 28,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DLanaDHZ/pseuds/DLanaDHZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year ago, George went missing. In the turbulent times following Voldy's death, Fred searches for his brother and bites off more than he can chew when George reappears with a group of remnant death eaters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

" _Where? Where is he? Where did he go? Why can't I see him?! Why!?"_

" _Fred, calm down! You're injured!"_

" _No! Where is he?! Where's my brother!? Let me go! I have to find him!"_

" _Fred, it's too dangerous!"_

" _Let go of me! Let go! George!"_

Tired eyes opened and saw darkness, the dream still echoing behind them. Fred Weasley stared at his arms, where his head was resting. He sighed and closed his eyes again. It had been almost a year. Fred pushed himself up off the table, the lamp in the corner illuminating the room just enough to see. Fred was in the livingroom at the Burrow. He ran a hand through his hair. It was a little longer than it had been last year... when...

Fred shook his head and walked to the kitchen. He grabbed himself a piece of bread and ate it plain. As he walked back through the kitchen, bread in hand, he spotted the clock with all their pictures on it. The entire Weasley family was 'Home' save for one. George Weasley's hand had been on the 'lost' section for almost a year now.

'God dammit, George,' Fred cursed inwardly. He put his hand on the clock. His only comfort was that George's hand hadn't fallen into 'injured' or 'dying' or.. 'dead' or something. George being 'Lost' meant he was still alive and well. Then why wasn't he coming home?

Twenty years old, Voldemort gone, and Fred still couldn't rest. Lingering dark wizards were causing problems everywhere. Harry was off trying to find out who was causing problems in the west. With Voldemort dead, no one denied his wish to go alone. Harry left almost three weeks ago. He was supposed to go see McGonagall as soon as he found out anything. As of yet, they hadn't heard anything... about Harry or about George.

Dammit, life was supposed to be easy with Voldemort gone! But even with that snake of a man gone, people were fighting and trying to carry on the idea of controlling the world, they were all still working to save their friends and family, and George was gone!

"Fred! Oh thank goodness someone's awake," a voice came from behind him.

Fred turned and found Hermione Granger's head in the fireplace. He hurried over and knelt by her.

"What's up, Hermione?" he asked.

"There's been a death eater spotting near Harry. I saw a large group of them myself. I don't think Harry can handle them all. I need some help," Hermione explained. Fred glance behind him to the stairs.

"Alright. I'll come. I'm sure we'll be enough. Mum and Dad have had a heavy load recently. I don't want to wake them," Fred explained.

"What about Ron?" Hermione asked. Fred shook his head.

"He'd still recovering from the last battle. Don't sweat it, Hermione. We can take 'em," Fred assured her with a smile that one expected from the old Fred Weasley.

"Alright. I'll see you soon," Hermione said, returning the smile. With that, she vanished from the fire. Fred turned and looked at the clock again.

"I'm going, George. I'll be back before you know it," he promised softly. Fred stood up tall and winked at the clock. Then, in an instant, he was gone from the Burrow and off to fight.


	2. Chapter 2

Fred dodged behind a wall. He pressed himself up against it and took a few deeps breaths. Death eaters, no. These weren't death eaters. They had the cloaks on, but they didn't have the right masks. Nor did they have dark marks on their wrists. Who were they? A random dark wizard faction? Potter haters?

"Are you alright, Fred?" Harry asked, coming to stand beside the red haired twin. Fred nodded.

"Of course. You think they could ever catch me? I'm Fred Weasley," Fred declared jokingly. Harry smiled, albeit a little sadly.

They all knew Fred suffered the most out of all of them. Yet Fred kept smiling around them whenever he found the chance. Someone who didn't know Fred very well might tell you that Fred was just fine, not hurt at all. Someone who did know Fred Weasley, like his family, Harry, and Hermione, could pick out the differences in the way he smiled or the tone of his jokes. They all missed George, but not as much as Fred.

Despite knowing him so well, none of them had any idea just how bad George's disappearance hurt him. It hurt more than just losing a brother, a best friend. No one would ever be able to tell Fred 'it'll be alright' or 'I understand' because they didn't. But Fred didn't let it get to him. He kept a smile on at all times and made himself act as if George just wasn't there for the moment, that he'd be back soon and then they could plan their next prank.

"Come out, Potter! Or we'll destroy this whole area!" one of the attacking wizards commanded. Harry winced.

"Are you ready?" he asked Fred. They made eye contact, Fred smiled excitedly, and they both nodded.

In a flash, they were both running from behind the wall, wands held high. Fred tossed out two round balls, which landed at the enemy's feet and then exploded in a puff of pink smoke. This was one of his new inventions. The smoke made you temporarily deaf and dizzy.

Harry called out enchantments, taking out two of the wizards at once. Another charm shot out of nowhere, alerting them to Hermione's location. Fred chuckled and sent up a spark into the sky, that rained down and lit some of the enemies' cloaks on fire. Panic spread through the enemy ranks. The smoke was dissipating, so Fred ran forward into it, along with Harry and Hermione close behind. Fred's hearing was dulled, but not gone. He kicked one of the wizards in the face while shooting curses at the others.

Fred saw Harry being swarmed and shot a curse in that direction, barely missing Harry while hitting the attackers. Harry gave Fred a look that screamed 'you nearly hit me!' Fred just shrugged and smiled.

The last time Fred was in a serious battle, he and George had been fighting side by side, kickin butt and takin names. Perfectly in sync. That's what one expected from the twins and that's what they got. Fred remembered it all perfectly.

The blue spells, the red spells, the green spells being cast around them. George's amazing chuckle sounding from behind him only made Fred more excited. It was all a big game... and then...

"Fred, watch out!" Harry called. Fred ducked instantly, an attacking wizard falling into view. How juvenile to tackle the opponent...

"You retard," Fred scolded hatefully, pressing his foot down into the attacker's chest. "You think I can be taken out that easily?" 'I'm not... like my brother.'

"No. You're not," the wizard chuckled. Fred glared and pressed harder into the man's chest, making him cough harshly.

"Don't attempt to read my thoughts," Fred ordered roughly.

"Don't have to... It's written all over your face. You're brother... he's different. He never thinks about you, or mentions you," the wizard chuckled airily, not able to breathe well with Fred's foot on his chest.

"What are you talking about?" Fred asked, confusion mixing in with his anger. That invoked a smirk on the other wizards face.

"Your brother... Little George. I know him," The wizard explained. "Never says a word about his family or friends."

"You're lying," Fred growled out.

"Am not," the wizard retorted, upset that his validity was being challenged. A curse flew past Fred's head and he gasped. He aimed his wand up and blasted the offending wizard right in the chest.

"Then where is he?" Fred asked, dropping onto the ground, his hands grabbing the man's robes by the collar. The other wizard merely laughed and spit on Fred's cheek.

"He's one of us, and he wants all of you to die," the man chuckled. Fred grit his teeth. He stood up and pointed his wand at the man's head.

"That... is a lie!" Fred spat out. His enemy seemed to find his distress even more amusing, and before Fred knew what he was doing, the man was dead.

Hermione shrieked. Fred spun around and rushed over to assist her. It seemed that during his conversation, many of the attackers had been rendered unconscious or dead. As Fred blew away the one after Hermione, the rest seemed to be in agreement and began to retreat. A few turned and cast last minute spells at the three friends, missing horribly. One stumbled as he ran, gasping and grunting as he hit the dirt. Fred raised an eyebrow. The wizard jumped to his feet and shot a glare back at Fred as if he knew Fred was watching him. Then they were all gone.

Fred stood still, letting himself catch his breath. He dropped his arms to hang limply at his sides. Harry came over and checked Hermione. She had a cut on her arm, but nothing serious. Fred put his hand over his shoulder where he had been injured earlier that year.

The night George went missing, Fred had been sliced up all over the place - his shoulder, both his legs, his wand hand, his chest. George jumped in to protect him and... that's the last thing Fred remembered.

Fred hugged himself and shook his head. George wouldn't... George wouldn't betray them. That man was a liar. George would never turn his back on his friends, his family, and especially not on Fred.

In his mind, he remembered the grunts of the men around him as they were hit with spells, and the one who grunted as he tripped. Fred bit his lip. No. George wasn't one of those men, but he just might be their prisoner. Fred didn't have much to go on, but he was going to rescue George. No matter who had him or where he was, Fred was going to get him back.


	3. Chapter 3

" _Fred!" George's voice echoed off the walls as he jumped on his brother to wake him._

" _What?" Fred asked groggily. He rolled over, getting tangled in the sheets._

" _Get up, Fred! It's Christmas! You remember the plan, don't you?" George asked. Fred smirked tiredly._

" _Yeah, I remember," he said. Fred Weasley shoved his brother off the bed and sat up. George Weasley just laughed. Just another day in their little paradise of pranks. George jumped up and sat on the edge of the bed while Fred woke up. He leaned in with a smile and rested his head on Fred's shoulder_

" _I love you, brother," George said softly. Fred smiled too and looked down at his brother's head._

" _I love you too," he replied. He kissed the top of George's head, making the other blush and rub the spot. "Now get up, or we wont make the traps in time," Fred ordered gently._

" _Righto," George laughed and stood up._

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Fred rolled over. Where was he? He wasn't in bed. Had he even gone home after that battle? No. Hermione had returned to get checked out, but Harry and Fred were unharmed. Just in case those men came back, Fred had stayed behind. Harry and Fred had moved away from the small town Harry had been in and were now bunking in a magically created tent.

They were making their way toward Hogwarts, but apparating would be dangerous. They were wizards. They could make it there on foot. Right now, they were camped beside a river, at the bottom of a large hill. They figured it'd be a good spot in case they were attacked.

Fred sat up in the early morning light. The tent smelled damp with the early morning mist. Hm.. Just like camping. Fred got up and walked to the entrance where Harry was sitting, keeping a look out. They'd been switching off every two hours.

"Harry, I'm gonna go wash up," Fred announced as he walked past his younger friend. Harry nodded with a smile.

"Alright. I'm ready to leave when you are," Harry said. Fred nodded and walked off toward the stream.

The water was amazingly clear for this part of the country. Fred smiled at it. It was so clear he could see the bottom. If it had been darker, he may have been able to see himself in the reflection, but this water was too pure for that.

Fred pulled his shirt off over his head and dropped it on the edge of the water. He slipped his pants off, but left his underwear on. He really couldn't call this a bath, so he wouldn't treat it like one. Fred jumped into the river and let out a relieved sigh. It wasn't too cold, and the water was just deep enough to come up to his chest. Perfect.

The red head dunked himself under the water and stayed there for a moment, letting the water relax his bruises and stressed muscles. His mind kept rolling over George and what that stupid wizard had said about him. He knew it was wrong. George wouldn't do things like that. He was a good person. He remembered George laughing at him for getting hurt in a duel, George protecting him and vice versa... There was just no way someone like George would betray them.

Finally, Fred resurfaced above the water and took a deep breath. He felt much better and really wet. Heh. That was to be expected. Fred took in a deep breath of the fresh air. He wished George was here to share this with.

A rustle in the bushes caught his attention. Fred spun and looked behind him to where the sound had come from. A person was standing there, half behind a tree, watching him. From the looks of his clothes, he was one of the wizards from last night. Fred glared and slowly made his way toward the bank where his clothes were. The other wizard just watched him.

"I can see you," Fred called out. "What do you want?"

"You pick up that wand, and I'll kill you," the other wizard warned. Fred froze. What?

"W-what?" he asked.

The other wizard shifted positions and then took off. Fred scrambled out of the water and grabbed his wand. He pointed it at where the other had been, but the wizard was gone. Fred pulled on his pants and took off running toward Harry. He was pulling his shirt on as he arrived at the tent.

"Harry, we gotta go," he said. "They found us."

"You saw one?" Harry asked, scrambling to his feet. Fred nodded, looking grim. They went inside and grabbed their things as fast as they could. Then they put up the tent and quickly made their way through the forest and away from that area.

Fred put a hand to his chest and bit his lip. He must be hearing things. After that scout left, all Fred could think about was saving Harry, but George's voice kept cutting in to his thoughts. Memories were randomly popping into his head. Fred had to concentrate, but he couldn't. He must have been hearing things.

"Stupify!" a voice called out. Fred tackled Harry to the dirt, and the spell zoomed over them.

"Run, Harry!" Fred ordered as they got to their feet. "I'll cover you!"

"Fred!" Harry argued.

"Just shut up and go, will ya? They can't hurt me," Fred said. "I'm Fred Weasley."

Harry seemed conflicted and then took off running. Fred took out a little voodoo doll and tapped it with his wand. In an instant, a very realistic Harry Potter was standing beside him, wand at the ready. With that done, Fred faced the wizards pouring in from the other way. He shot curses all over the place, hitting a few and being parried by others.

There were way too many for just him, of course. Fred was hit twice in his arm. It felt like knives had sliced him, and he hissed. Then another hit him in his right leg while he was distracted. Fred shouted and fell to the ground. He took in sharp breaths as the enemy surrounded him, attacking his fake Harry. The doll returned to it's normal size and shape, lying among the leaves. One of the wizards above him stepped on it, cracking it in half.

Fred glared at them all. He could apparate, but they'd be able to follow him. Still, he may have no other choice.

"Move," a strict voice commanded. Oh, Fred was hearing things again.

A wizard stepped forward and looked at Fred closely. Then he looked at the doll. This was the 'scout' from earlier. He pointed his wand at Fred and raised his own head. Fred's eyes must be deceiving him.

"Where is the real Harry Potter?" the wizard asked.

"George?" Fred asked. It couldn't be true, right?

"Where is Harry Potter?" the wizard asked again.

"George, why are you doing this?!" Fred yelled. A wizard off to the side kicked Fred where he'd been hit moments ago. Fred bit his tongue to keep from crying out.

"Answer me, or I'll kill you," George threatened. Fred's eyes were pricked with tears from the pain and the disbelief. George was...

"I don't know...," he lied. It was a good lie, though. He seemed honest, and not even his thoughts suggested otherwise.

"He's lying," George informed the others. Of course George would be able to tell.

"No. I'm not," Fred growled back.

"Fine. Keep to your lies. Whether you are or not really doesn't matter. Tie him up!" George ordered. Almost instantly, Fred's arms were ripped behind his back, his wrists becoming bound with enchanted rope. "Potter is a friend of the Weasley's. He'll come for you," George explained, his tone dark.

"George...," Fred tried once more to see some spark of remembrance, of feeling, in his brother's eyes. However, George turned away from him and walked out of sight. Fred bit his lip again. He was pulled to his feet, and his wand was taken. Fred let his head hang, his hair long enough to hide his distraught face. How could George do something like that? Why? Then they all apparated and were gone from the forest.


	4. Chapter 4

_Splat!_

_Another white ball of slushy water connected with the teacher's head. The stuttering man spun around like he'd been bitten._

" _S-S-Stop th-that, you! Wh-whoever's d-doing that, s-stop it now!" Professor Quirrell ordered, making sure his turban was on properly._

_Two first years were hiding behind a bush that had become a big white rock now that it was covered in snow. They were pressing hands over each other's mouths in the attempt not to laugh. Brown eyes sparkled with glee and stared into equally bright brown eyes. Smiles hid behind the hands. Fred and George Weasley could almost telepathically celebrate this amazing way to annoy their teacher._

' _This is awesome!'_

' _I know!'_

' _Okay... Without laughing, drop your hand and grab some more snow. Ready?'_

_And both twins lowered their hands. As if they'd already planned it all out, they both snatched up some snow, balled it up, and hurled it over their bush covering. Two thuds later, they silently cheered. Quirrell was down for the count, hollering about some phantom chasing him._

_The twins chuckled together for a while when two hands suddenly grabbed their ears. Yelps escaped their throats as they were pulled to their feet. Oh darn! They'd been caught! Turned to their captor, both boys groaned when they saw it was Snape who'd caught them._

" _You boys have been causing trouble...," Snape sneered. The boys pouted and then adopted indignant looks._

" _How dare he accuse us of such a horrible idea," George said._

" _Quite. It's upsetting. Sir, you will take that back," Fred said, knocking Snape's hand away from him. George grinned. Snape looked a little shocked. The professor adopted a glower._

" _You're act doesn't fool me, Weasley. I know what you've been up to. I'm keeping my eye on you... both of you," Snape said, looking at George in warning before turning and leaving them both._

" _Yeah, he better," George snickered, and Fred nearly snorted._

– – – – – – –

Fred groaned as he opened his eyes. Every time... Every time he closed his eyes it was an endless flood of memories. Every dream was a precious moment he'd experienced with George. Fred tried to stretch his arms, to relieve them of their lingering cramp, but he couldn't. His hands were still bound. The younger twin(1) sighed. He was still having a hard time taking in the fact that his brother was evil.

Around him he saw a fireplace for transportation usage and a counter that divided where he was being held from what appeared to be a kitchen. He must be in a livingroom type area. He was on a couch, that's for sure. It wasn't all too comfortable, but he wasn't a guest either. He was a prisoner - bait.

A creak in the floor boards caught his attention, and he looked toward the entrance to the livingroom. He didn't know what was past that wall. He'd been unconscious when they'd finally brought him into the house... or whatever this place was.

Around the corner popped a familiar head. George was watching him, much as he had at the river. Fred stared right back, surprise in his eyes. George made his way into the room and crouched in the middle of it, right in front of Fred but a safe distance away. Right, like Fred was a real threat to anyone.

"What? Why are you staring at me?" Fred asked. "Is there something on my face?" he joked a little, hoping to get a reaction from George. He got nothing. George just tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in apparent confusion.

"Not really," he said. Fred knew he must have dirt on his face, which the George he used to know would have teased him about. "I was just wondering... why you have that face at all."

"Huh?" Fred asked, doing his best to sit up. The fire on the side lit up both their faces but caused one side to seemed unusually dark. It made it hard to read George's expression.

"Your face. What charm did you put on it?" George asked, motioning toward Fred.

"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything to my face," Fred replied. He was so confused.

"But the way you look... You look...," George trailed off. He seemed to be finding it hard to think of the proper word. Realization dawned on Fred.

"Oh. I grew my hair out. You kept yours shorter, and it's been a rough year. I probably do look different now. Sorry," Fred murmured the last word, looking away from his brother.

"Hm," George said. The older twin sank onto the floor completely and crossed his legs. Fred watched out of the corner of his eye as his brother stared at the fire.

"George," Fred called out. George didn't move his head but did shift his eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

"What do you mean?"George asked.

"Why are you after Harry? Why are you attacking innocent people?" Fred asked, trying to keep any accusing tones out of his voice. He didn't want to make George angry at him... No... He didn't want that.

"That's an odd question," George replied, turning his head to look at Fred. "I guess it's because... I hate Harry Potter and everything he stands for. I have for as long as I can remember."

Fred's eyes widened. What? There was no hesitation, no second guessing, no hints in George's expression or posture to say he was lying in the slightest. But George- George always loved Harry like family! They'd always talked about how great it would be if Harry became headmaster of Hogwarts or the Minister of Magic! How could George hate Harry and his ideas? It wasn't possible. George wouldn't.

"Wh-what?" Fred stuttered out. "What do you mean... 'for as long as you can remember'?"

Had George been planning this evil betrayal for that long? If so, how had Fred missed it? He thought he knew George better than anyone. Had he been tricked as well? Across from him, George just blinked and watched him. Fred must look horrible right now - so upset and shocked.

"George," another voice spoke up. A man was barely in view by the wall. "You shouldn't be down here. We're all supposed to be resting. Get back up to bed."

"Right. Sorry, Malachite," George said and nodded. The man known as Malachite backed out of view, and Fred could hear stairs creaking in the distance. George walked to the wall and paused. With one last look at Fred, he disappeared behind that wall.

Fred could feel himself shaking. He clenched his fists and tugged against his bonds. He could feel... his chest. It hurt. It hurt so much he wanted to claw into it with his own fingernails. Maybe it was a good thing his hands were bound. Was this his heart aching? George had been planning this for... so long. Everything Fred knew was a lie?

"G-George...," Fred could hardly even whisper. He found it a little hard to breathe. "George."

Here they were again - hot tears, sliding down Fred's face and unable to be wiped away. Fred grit his teeth and begged himself to stop, but he couldn't. This was worse than George dying. Why couldn't that clock hand just drop down to the 'injured' section? Why? Why did George have to be perfectly fine and healthy? Why did George have to be a bad guy?!

"George!" Fred hissed out. God, why did George have to _be_ at all? It hurt... so much!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) - I based which Weasley twin was younger on which Phelps twin was younger. James is 13 minutes younger than Oliver, so Fred is 13 minutes younger than George. The Phelps twins play the Weasley twins - in case you didn't know that.


	5. Chapter 5

"So the rumors are true?"

"Yes. Potter and his merry lot are on their way to Snively Place."

"Is that where they think this one is being held?"

"Duh. That's where we made our clues tell them he was."

Fred was brought of out his restless sleep by these voices. He didn't move or open his eyes. He didn't want them to know he was awake. He just listened. Neither of these quarreling men was George. Not that Fred... cared anymore. Just thinking of George's betrayal made Fred queasy.

"And the other red head doesn't care that we're gonna kill Harry and his brother and... whoever else shows up?"

"Him? Nah. After what Malachite did, that guy could care less about his family."

Shuffling footsteps alerted him to one of the men moving closer to him. He felt someone move his hair out of his face.

"Still... Even for little George... Wont it be weird to see someone who looks just like you killed? It'll be like watching his own murder, wont it?"

A finger traced down Fred's cheek and lifted his face into better view. He did his best not to move, but he couldn't help his eyes twitching a little. He let out a shaky breath. He hadn't meant for it to be shaky, but he couldn't control his breathing. He'd had trouble with it since last night.

"Wayne, stop touching him. You're going to wake him up."

The hand withdrew from Fred's face like it had been bitten. Fred let his head fall back onto the couch. His wrists hurt like hell, and he thought it would be okay to let out a groan of discomfort. The wizards in the room thought nothing of it. Obviously, they figured touching him had disturbed his sleep and caused the noise. Everything was silent. Were they waiting to see if he woke up?

Fred took in a slow, but deep, breath. He opened his eyes a little and instantly began to feel his head pounding. The light had woken up his headache. Someone made a surprised noise. Fred opened his eyes more and looked over toward the sound. Two wizards were standing by each other, about eight feet away. Fred regarded them curiously, trying to place if he knew them. When he found he couldn't, he settled a wimpy glare on them.

"Don't give us that look, boy," the taller of the two ordered, returning Fred's glare but actually meaning it.

"I'm not a boy, and I don't take orders from stupid marauders," Fred growled out, his voice a little raspy from crying himself to sleep.

"He doesn't sound too good, Niccolo," the shorter one, Wayne was it?, said. Niccolo looked Fred over as the younger Weasley twin groaned and sat up.

"He looks healthy to me. Go fetch Malfoy. It's time to move the body," Niccolo ordered. He obviously meant Fred to be 'the body'. Wayne ran off and disappeared behind that damn wall again. Niccolo reached for a container of floo powder.

"So this is it, hm?" Fred asked. The guy had said Malfoy. Was he talking about Lucius Malfoy? He should have known that slimy rat would be behind this.

"This is it. I'm going to let you know... We plan on killing you before the sun rises. We have no use for you after Harry Potter is dead," Niccolo explained, pushing the powder around with his fingers.

"What if Harry isn't dead by morning?" Fred asked. They all thought Lucius had converted to their side. He wasn't helping them out, but he wasn't hurting them either. As far as Fred knew, Lucius had been hiding away in his mansion or trotting around Diagon Alley like a show pony ever since Voldemort's death. Then again, Fred hadn't known George was going to betray them so why not Lucius?

"Oh trust me. He will be," Niccolo said with a devilish smirk. He had blood on the brain. Fred could tell.

"We're ready when you are," Wayne's voice broke in. How did people keep doing that? Fred knew those stairs were creaky last night, and yet people continued to just pop in without notice!

"Good. Malfoy, grab Weasley. You're in charge of getting him there on time," Niccolo ordered.

Malfoy stepped into view and bowed low. Fred raised an eyebrow. What was going on here? Draco Malfoy was the one they meant? Now that was strictly impossible. Fred may have misjudged George, but no way was Draco Malfoy going to turn on Harry Potter. He was Harry's lover for goodness sake! Well... Only Fred knew about the sex part. Ron and Hermione knew they were dating, but only Fred knew they'd gotten physical. George would know too but... Well George decided to ditch them and turn on them.

Draco locked gazes with Fred and nodded to Niccolo. Fred gave Draco a curious look, which was ignored of course. Draco tugged Fred to his feet. Fred wasn't going to argue. He had to get out of here sooner or later, and they'd be taking him to see Harry anyway.

"So where is Snively Place?" Fred asked.

"None of your business. Don't plan on escaping. It's useless," Niccolo snarled out. He stepped into the fireplace, now cold and gray, and tossed floo powder down at his feet. His mouth moved, but Fred hadn't heard what he'd said.

Next was Wayne. He looked at Draco for a long while before stepping into the fireplace.

"You can handle him until you get there?" Wayne asked.

"Of course. He's not an idiot," Draco snapped. Wayne flinched a little, dropping his floo powder. He managed to say his destination clear enough before it hit though. Fred understood it that time. Snively Place hm?

"So Draco... You're a bad guy now?" Fred asked smugly. He was tired of people betraying him.

"Shut up and don't be stupid. There's more going on here than you could possibly understand," Draco ordered harshly, shoving Fred into the fireplace and almost hitting his head. Draco stepped up next to Fred and grabbed his hands were they were bound.

"Snively Place," they both said, and Draco tossed down the powder. In a flash they were sent spinning. Fred felt ill. His stomach had already been queasy, but now it was just stupid how bad he felt.

When his feet finally felt like they had touched ground and his head had stopped spinning, Fred opened his eyes. The room he was facing now was bright with candles. It had chairs scattered around it but no couch like the last one. All the chairs were made of wood, save for one. It was a plush seat, and Fred highly doubted he'd be the one sitting in that seat.

"You made it in one piece. Good," Niccolo said, stepping into view. A whole band of Wizards stood off to the side of the fireplace, letting Draco pull Fred into the open.

"Cut his bonds. He can't do anything without a wand and this building can't be apparated in or out of," another voice ordered. Wayne walked up and tapped the ropes with his wand. They jingled and then were gone, leaving nothing behind to say they were there save for the marks on Fred's wrists.

"... Are you okay?" Draco asked, taking a step back from Fred. Fred's face was pale, and he was shaking a little. All the wizards in the room took a big step back from him as if they thought he was contagious.

Fred covered his mouth and collapsed to his knees. Trying to breathe didn't help. It only made his stomach churn. Fred dropped his hand away from his mouth and used both his hands to support himself off the floor. With one more gurgle from his stomach, Fred hurled.

What had he gotten himself into? He wished he'd never gone to help Hermione that day. If he hadn't, he could have stayed blissfully unaware, and Harry wouldn't be heading into a trap. His chest wouldn't hurt every time he breathed, his arm and leg wouldn't be sliced, his stomach wouldn't have betrayed him, none of this would be happening if Fred had just stayed home and let someone else go in his place. Why did he have to act like such a goof-balling tough guy all the time? Why did he have to be such an idiot? Most of all, why couldn't Fred stop thinking about his damn brother and worry about himself for once!?


	6. Chapter 6

Fred hung his head. He was no longer bound by his wrists, but now he was tied to a chair around his arms and torso. His arm stung like it was freshly cut, as did his leg. He'd gone untreated but bleeding was minimal. Still, he felt a little lightheaded.

Without moving much, Fred did a sweep of the room. Draco, Niccolo, and Wayne were in a corner to his left, perfectly hidden under a cheap imitation of Harry's invisibility cloak. All the wizards in this room were using them. Fred was the only visible person in the room. Somewhere in the back right hand corner, George was hiding under a cloak as well. Fred noticed George didn't talk as much as he used to, and when he did it was usually to Malachite. What happened to the fun-loving jokester he knew his whole life?

' _Stop it, Fred. Stop thinking about that jerk. It doesn't matter. He's the enemy now,'_ Fred scolded himself.

The door handle turned. All attentions were on the handle, the door. Fred heard shuffling as cloaks were moved ever so much to accommodate the wands. Fred bit his lip. Harry wouldn't really just walk into an obvious trap, would he? The door opened and Fred took a deep, shaky breath.

No one stood in the doorway. The other wizards must have figured Harry was using his own cloak and started blasting the entrance with spells. If they knew anything at all, they'd know Harry's cloak was invincible to spells. That meant Draco hadn't told them anything. Still, the spells weren't hitting anything, invincible or not. They went right on past. Fred cocked his head in confusion. On the ground, the grass outside was flattened. So someone was there after all. Crouching? Crawling?

In the flurry of spells, someone had moved around behind Fred. He could hear them breathing and sat up straight. He couldn't tell who it was by the mere sound of their breath, but he knew one thing... he didn't recognize it as George. It had been a year since he'd been around George, close enough to hear him breathing, but Fred would never forget the sounds George made.

A rattling noise met all their ears and all eyes watched as a little black ball rolled into view. Another followed behind it, going in a different direction. Soon, there was one ball in every corner of the room. They all stopped rolling and just sat there. If they were supposed to be dangerous, they had yet to prove it. Suddenly, Fred's eyes widened. He recognized those balls!

"Watch out!" George's voice shouted. He must have noticed Fred's face even from back in his corner.

The four balls exploded, sending pink smoke everywhere. The person behind Fred moved quickly in the confusion. A cloak was thrown over Fred's body, something pressed over his mouth. With quickly muttered words, the bonds around Fred fell to the floor. Fred didn't understand. Why was the person behind him panicking? The gas emitted by those balls only made you momentarily deaf. If he was planning to help Fred escape, he didn't need to cover Fred's mouth to keep him from breathing. The pink smoke effected you no matter how it got in your body - mouth, nose, ears, etc.

"Get up," a harsh voice ordered. Draco was the one behind him!

Fred did as he was told, hunching a little to avoid making their cloak try and cover more than it was possible to cover. Draco hurried Fred over to the door and shoved him forward. Fred probably didn't even have time to become visible again before he was inside Harry's cloak. Harry winked at him. Harry nodded his head away from the house and urged Fred along.

The wizards still in the house were shouting in odd tones, probably due to the fact that they couldn't hear at all to make the right noises. It was utter confusion, and then Fred began to hear loud thuds as someone or something collapsed.

"Harry, what about Draco?" Fred asked.

"If he left with us, they'd know he helped us and we'd lose our inside help," Harry explained. So Harry had figured out who was behind it all and even got Draco into it already? Wow, he was good.

"So what's going on back there?" Fred asked. Wasn't Draco knocking people unconscious or something back there anyway?

"Garrotting gas," Harry replied proudly. Fred was shocked and then began to laugh. They were far enough away to laugh.

Garrotting gas was one of George's ideas. Together, they'd made the invisible substance but never had a chance to test it. Seemed Ginny and Ron had helped Harry put the gas into the same containers as Fred's pink smoke. Well at least Draco would be okay. Garrotting gas only knocked you out... uh, least that was the plan. He didn't know about side effects yet. As was previously mentioned, the gas had never been tested on people before.

After a moment of walking in silence, Harry stopped them. He seemed to be looking around for something as though he'd dropped it. Then a smile spread across his features. He led Fred over to an old muggle junk heap. Just where were they? Fred could see a town nearby, but nothing looked familiar. The sun was rising slowly and turning the sky pink as Harry shuffled them along.

"You see that shiny pair of glasses?" Harry asked. Fred looked where Harry was pointing and nodded. It was a little odd. Those glasses didn't look to be in bad shape and yet they were in the trash. "Get ready to be scolded," Harry said jokingly.

Fred obviously didn't understand, but Harry didn't explain. He just grabbed tightly onto Fred's wrist, making the twin hiss in pain. Harry had grabbed him right on the rope burns. Without checking Fred's condition, Harry snatched up the glasses. Fred barely had time to gasp before he felt himself being ripped from the ground. A port key? Insane! They had really thought out this rescue, hadn't they?

With a grunt, Fred found himself falling on his ass on a hardwood floor. Lots of people seemed to move in fear after his noise. Harry threw their protective cloak to the side and stood up. Fred looked up into the house he was in. This was... his own livingroom. He was home?

"Fred!" his mother's voice shrieked. Fred barely saw her coming before he was being smashed into her bosom. He didn't know who everyone was, but several pairs of arms found their way around him in the next few moments. His mother's voice drowned out anything anyone else might have been saying. She was wailing things like 'I thought I'd lost you!'

"He can't breathe!" Harry warned loudly.

Like a switch had been hit, every pair of arms released Fred and left him gasping for air. Now that he had a chance to catch his breath, Fred noticed his family standing around him. His mother, his father, Ron, Percy, Charlie, Bill, Ginny, Hermione, Harry, Luna, and even Professor McGonagall was standing before him.

"Uh... Hey," Fred greeted with a little nervous smile.

"'Hey'? That's all you can say?" Molly Weasley shouted. "How dare you, Fred! Why would you put yourself in a situation to be captured like that?! If you hadn't come back-!"

Miss Weasley couldn't finish her sentence and had to be consoled by her husband. He pat her back and held her close. Percy glared a little at Fred.

"Honestly, Fred. You know what it did to everyone when George went missing. What made you think it was okay if you left too?" the middle son demanded.

"Guys, please," Ginny stepped in. She knelt by Fred but was looking at her family. "It's not like he planned for it to happen. He was just helping Harry. Right, Fred?" She asked and looked at her brother.

"Right," Fred replied and nodded. He watched her carefully. When had she grown up so much?

"See? He was just doing what he felt was right. He's back and he's alive. That's all we should be focusing on. And one day, George will come home too," Ginny said. Fred's eyes widened and then he turned his head away.

"I'm sorry, Fred...," Percy murmured. "I was wrong. I know you miss him the most."

"No I don't," Fred growled out. Everyone in the room stared at him in shock. Fred didn't miss George? Whatever. He must be lying. "I don't care what happens to him anymore. I don't miss him anymore. He can go off and die for all I care."

A loud crack echoed through the Weasley household. Fred was knocked flat on the ground, flatter than he'd already been. The women gasped. Molly Weasley was even shocked. Hermione Granger stood over Fred, hand back where it had stopped after slapping Fred to the floor. Fred held his cheek and glared up at the brunette girl.

"Shut up, Fred," Hermione ordered dangerously soft. "Don't you ever say that about George! He's you're brother, for goodness sake! He's your twin! What's he going to think when he comes back and hears you didn't care he was gone? We're all worried about him. We're all worried about _you_! So just stop it!"

Hermione's outburst left the room in silence. Fred had lost his glare. To Harry, Fred looked like a child, a frightened child. Fred looked like someone had thrown him into the middle of a dark forest with huge spiders baring down on him. Harry had never seen one of the twins look so lost and scared... not since George disappeared and Fred lost it.

Fred dropped his gaze and looked at his hand on the hardwood floor. His face contorted but he refused to cry.

"You're right," he finally said. "I'm... I'm sorry."

Hermione frowned and apologized too. With that done, Bill and Charley fell in beside Fred to help get him to the couch so they could heal his wounds. Harry watched Fred with a sad frown, and Ginny comforted Hermione. Small talk scattered among everyone. It seemed everyone was trying to break the uneasy silence. Fred didn't care. None of them knew... about George, and he wasn't going to tell them. He didn't want to hurt them with the news. For now, this would be his burden to bear.


	7. Chapter 7

" _Catch me if you can!" George called out as he ran._

" _George! This isn't helping!" Fred laughed, running after his brother. They were in an underground passage they'd just found the other day behind an old witch statue. It was dark but they could still see each other._

" _Don't blame me cause you're too slow!" George teased._

" _Oh, take that back!" Fred yelled._

" _Never!" George laughed. Fred was running as fast as he could, but he didn't seem to be getting any closer to his brother. He kept nearly tripping over mounds in the dirt floor. Was George floating over them or something?_

" _G-George!" Fred called out just before his foot snagged on a root and sent him tumbling to the ground. "O-ow."_

_Fred sat up and looked around. George's laughter sounded like it was getting farther and farther away. Had he not noticed Fred had fallen? It was dark down here, and Fred's knee stung. He had the sneaking suspicion that he'd either skinned it or cut it._

" _George!" Fred called out. He looked down the tunnel where George had gone but saw nothing. Eleven year old Fred Weasley lay in the tunnel beneath the school, completely alone. He gripped the dirt in his hands and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He leaned against the wall and cautiously began to test his knee to see what kind of injury it was. He couldn't properly see it, but he was rather sure it was bleeding just a little. Damn._

_Fred leaned his head back against the wall and grit his teeth. He hadn't meant to get hurt on this little adventure. How long would it take George to notice Fred wasn't behind him? How long was this tunnel? Would George only stop to notice if Fred had caught up when he got to the end?_

" _Fred?" George's voice brought the younger twin out of his thoughts._

_Fred looked up and saw George standing over him, looking worried. George bent down and looked his brother over as best he could in the darkness. His eyes barely picked up the cut on Fred's knee before George was standing again._

" _Come on," George said, offering Fred his hand. "We'll get the nurse to fix you right up."_

_Fred smiled and slipped his hand into George's._

" _Are you kidding?" he asked as George lifted him to his feet. "I'm not going back till I've seen where this tunnel leads."_

" _Fred," George scolded with a smile._

" _Don't try to convince me otherwise, George. I've already caught you. Now we're going to finish what we started," Fred declared. George laughed._

" _You little cheater! And here I thought you were hurt!" he said. He let go of Fred, to let his little brother stand on his own._

" _Ah! No, George! Don't let go!" Fred gasped as he lost balance. George's eyes widened, and he grabbed a hold of Fred, but they were both still sent to the ground._

_Fred had landed directly on top of George and only hoped he hadn't hurt him. After a few coughs, Fred realized his head was right in George's neck. He pushed himself up a little and blushed lightly. In the darkness, George wouldn't be able to tell._

" _Sorry, George," he apologized._

" _No problem. My fault," George replied._

_George shifted positions and must have pushed himself up, because now their lips were touching. Fred's eyes blinked. In the brief period in which their lips touched, Fred's mind was sent into turmoil. Whoa. It was like an electric shock. George pulled back quickly and covered his mouth slowly._

" _S-Sorry. My bad," he said in an offhanded way. Fred wasn't sure if George really sounded like he'd meant to do it or if that was just his imagination getting in the way._

" _No problem," Fred replied. He rolled off of his brother and let George get up. George helped him stand again, but this time he just helped him walk. A few steps down the tunnel, they were already laughing about Fred getting himself hurt so easily. Fred laughed and joked with George, but inside he was asking himself why he'd liked that kiss so much._

– – – – –

Fred was looking out the window onto the lawn from his bedroom window. The gnomes were playing limbo with the tulips. Mother would be furious. He watched them for what seemed like forever, remembering the first time he'd kissed George... the ONLY time he'd kissed George while the other was awake. Fred had never told George how he felt. After that first kiss, Fred hadn't been able to stop thinking about George in non-brotherly fashions. Thinking back, maybe it was a good thing he hadn't told George. If George had known... this would only hurt even more.

At first, Fred thought it was narcissism. George looked exactly like him so it wouldn't be odd. But even though they looked the same, they were still different people. He was still George and in no way did Fred think of George as himself. He always thought of George as his 'other half' but never as if they were really one person. It was totally different. Being Fred's other half just meant that Fred wouldn't be able to function properly without George by his side... and look at what happened. Fred was definitely not functioning properly. He hadn't even put up half a good fight against those attacking wizards.

A knock came at the door, but Fred ignored it. He was shirtless in the window, bandages running up his arm. He'd eaten something that was supposed to make it heal faster, but it still hurt. Magically inflicted wounds weren't always so easy to fix. His pants fell over the wrapping on his leg. He was glad not to have to look at it.

"Fred?" Harry's voice drifted over. He must have come in even though Fred hadn't answered. Fred turned his head toward his friend and smiled a little.

"Heya, Harry," he greeted.

"Fred, you don't have to act tough around me," Harry pointed out. Fred's grin grew.

"Act? Who has to act? I'm fine and happy," Fred said. Harry frowned.

"I know about George," Harry revealed. Fred's smile dropped instantly into a look of shock. Fred turned back to the window with a sad glower.

"Then you understand... why I said what I said... back in the livingroom," Fred murmured. Harry shook his head.

"Fred, I understand why because I know what you know. But I know more than you know. There's more going on than you understand," Harry said, placing a hand on Fred's shoulder. Fred narrowed his eyes curiously and then looked back at Harry.

"Draco said that too. What do you guys know that I don't?" Fred asked. Harry withdrew his hand and his fingers curled in. He seemed to be considering something. What was going on that would be so hard to explain? Or to at least let him know about.

"Fred... If I tell you, you have to promise not to do anything stupid," Harry said. Fred crossed his arms to add to his serious look but pulled them apart again when his arm stung in rebellion.

"Of course I wont. I'm not an idiot, Harry," Fred replied, almost sounding a little put off but really just curious.

"Draco infiltrated the enemy almost three and a half weeks ago. They call themselves Death Eaters, but they aren't. Draco says they're wanna be's. People who supported Voldemort but weren't good enough to get into his good graces. I killed Voldemort and now they're out to kill me and everyone who was on my side," Harry explained. Then he paused and bit his lower lip.

"And? Spit it out, Harry," Fred encouraged, lowering his head a little but keeping his eyes steadfast on Harry.

"Their leader is a man named Malachite. He says he knows everything about Voldemort, but I doubt it. Anyway, Draco questioned Malachite about George after he saw him and George didn't recognize him. Malachite is a really proud guy so he revealed to Draco that they captured George just after the battle at Hogwarts. Then Malachite tried out a spell he'd created on George. It basically wipes the memories of that person and allows fake memories to be implanted," Harry continued to explain. He paused again.

Fred was shocked. George... was under a curse? A charm that made him forget everything? So George didn't remember Fred at all? Didn't remember Harry or his own family?

" _I was just wondering... why you have that face at all."_

" _Your face. What charm did you put on it?" George asked, motioning toward Fred._

" _What are you talking about? I haven't done anything to my face," Fred replied. He was so confused._

" _But the way you look... You look...," George trailed off._

George... must have wondered why Fred looked just like him. He didn't remember Fred at all, so he didn't understand. George must have been just as confused as Fred!

"Fred... One more thing. Draco says the only way to break the curse... is to kill Malachite," Harry revealed.


	8. Chapter 8

George was under a spell that made him forget everything he cared about. George was under a spell that turned him from Harry's biggest supporter into Harry's worst enemy. George was under a spell to keep him thinking he was someone he wasn't. George was under a spell that could only be broken by killing the man who'd cast it, Malachite, the leader of the wanna-be death eaters.

Fred was under a spell. His spell was different from George's. His spell hadn't been cast by an evil wizard. His spell had no evil intent. Fred's spell was one of determination and love. His undying love for his brother had him caught in it's grasp. Fred had promised Harry he wouldn't go off and do anything stupid, but now he knew how to get George back. He wanted to go out and get him right now!

Fred mulled around his house for the next few days listening to his friends and family discuss issues and what to do next. Fred was only waiting for his arm to finish healing. After that was done, Fred was SO out of here.

He didn't want to make his family worry, however, so he acted cheery and normal. So far, he was certain only Harry, Draco, and himself knew about George. He didn't think Harry had told McGonagall yet, although he'd probably told her about the wannabe death eater Malachite. Everyone was moving in and out of doors and apparating everywhere, from safe house to safe house, gathering some simple supplies. Most of it was actually random inventions for distraction or violent purposes (some of these supplies were Weasley creations) and potions that Fred heard his mother and father discussing. Apparently they would melt floors and shoes and burn skin.

Pretty handy stuff, Fred thought. He'd have to borrow some.

His family was mostly gathering these things for defensive purposes, but Fred was looking at them in a completely offensive way. He would use these objects to get George back and-!...

Reality hit him. Fred had no idea where George was. He'd never seen the outside of the building he'd been kept in, nor had he heard the name of the place. He knew Snively, but that was no good. It wasn't their base or where they'd be keeping George.

Ah! Draco!

"Heya, Harry. You look down," Fred said as he joined Harry against a wall. They were away from the others, who were all trying to make dinner at once. McGonagall was gone by now, long gone to manage the school.

"Do I?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. Worried about Draco?" Fred asked. He had to do this carefully, or Harry would suspect him and refuse to tell him. Harry wouldn't want Fred to know where to go.

"A little... I know he can handle himself, but still... He's in the middle of the enemy camp," Harry murmured, looking down. Fred nodded.

"I understand your pain, my friend. The one you love most is out in the middle of all the danger... You don't know where they are or what they're doing...Pretty rough stuff," Fred sighed dramatically, acting as best he could. He actually did understand Harry, but right now he was only agreeing to get a certain reaction to benefit himself.

Harry was quite for a moment. He glanced at Fred a few times, and Fred made sure that he was only looking at Harry if the brunette gave him long glances. During the short ones, Fred kept his eyes forward on the others. Harry looked ahead of them and leaned heavier on the wall. He muttered something about '-r mom's...na kill me,' but Fred couldn't really hear him over the sudden eruption of noise in the kitchen.

"You don't know where your love is, maybe... but I know where mine is," Harry spoke up just loud enough for Fred to hear over the noise but keeping it soft so the others wouldn't hear him. "He's in Westshire... a big house he calls 'The Crystal Mansion' when he writes me letters."

"Crystal Mansion? Is it made out of diamonds or something?" Fred asked, surprised by the name. Harry shrugged.

"It sounded like a completely normal house when Draco explained it... I don't know why it's called the Crystal Mansion," Harry replied. "But if you're going to go there... the best time would be at night, between midnight and 2 am. That's when Draco sends me letters. Everyone's sleeping then.. There's no watch who's staying up either," Harry explained.

Fred stared curiously at Harry. Harry was telling him everything he needed to know if he wanted to infiltrate the place. He was helping Fred plan his attack, was he? So then... what Harry muttered must have been 'your mom's gonna kill me'... cause she so would kill Harry if she knew he was giving her son details to help him break into a home he was recently held captive in.

A smile broke out over Fred's face.

"Thanks, Harry," he said. Harry shrugged.

"Just don't go getting caught, understand? I saved you once. I don't think it'll work a second time... and don't get hurt either. Then your mom really will kill me," Harry winked at Fred, causing the younger twin to nearly glow. His chest swelled with air and he hugged Harry as best he could in his nearly healed state.

"Gosh. I wouldn't trade you for nothin, Harry," he said as he released the younger male. "'Cept maybe a talking ferret," he added, thinking of Draco. Harry hit him in his injured arm. "Ow!"

"I am MUCH better than a talking ferret," Harry argued. Fred laughed and held his arm. He almost felt like he was talking to George... except with a different face and voice and Fred didn't get filled with butterflies when he spoke. Those butterflies that lifted Fred up so he could even be a trickster at all... yeah, they weren't quite there with Harry. If George ever decided to go on vacation without Fred, Harry might make a good temporary substitute for George, but he could never replace him. He wasn't _that_ amazing.

Despite Harry's apparent approval, the scar headed boy kept a close eye on Fred for the next two days. He seemed to be trying to figure out when Fred was going to leave. After just one of those days, Fred's wounds had completely healed. His mother kissed each spot at least twenty times in her joy.

Fred laughed about it and shook her off a lot, but his mind really wasn't in the area. It was many miles away, how many he didn't know, but it was away where George was.

On the second night after his wounds had healed, Fred was up at about 1 am. He was certain everyone else was asleep by now, so he snuck down the stairs into the kitchen. The table was covered in all the enchanted objects they'd gathered. Fred scanned over them and then began to stuff some into his cloak.

Suddenly, Fred had an idea. He might use Harry's invisibility cloak for this. It would certainly help him out. Now he'd just have to sneak it out of Harry's room without the boy wonder noticing. Fred turned toward the stairs again and froze. A little smile covered his lips.

Harry was standing there, leaning against the mantle, with his cloak over his shoulder. He was staring at Fred with tired yet devious eyes.

"I thought you might be able to use this when you go," he said, holding out his cloak. Fred took it into his hands, holding it delicately. He'd never used it before, and the fabric felt extremely refined under his fingers - although that could be because of how importantly he thought of this cloak.

"Thanks for everything, Harry," Fred said with an honest smile. Harry shook his head.

"Just come back alive and with George," Harry ordered.

"Will do," Fred laughed softly. He threw on the cloak, vanishing from sight besides his head.

"You sure you don't want someone to come along with you?" Harry asked. He pushed off the mantle and grabbed the floo powder jar.

"Yeah. I'm sure. I want to do this alone," Fred replied, nodding his head. He smirked at Harry and pulled the cloak up over his head. "Besides, they can't hurt me. I'm Fred Weasley."

"That's what you said last time," Harry reminded. He held the jar out. A hand appeared and grabbed some of the powder. Then, the fireplace crackled, lit up, and went out all in the course of a few seconds. Fred was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

The woods were eerily silent. His ears seemed muted. Nothing moved or made a noise out in the darkness. Then a branch snapped. A bird cried out and disturbed the silence with its wings. Another creature rustled the leaves of a bush as it dove after its prey. An ever so slight dribble of ash had fallen out of the fireplace, dragged out by an unseen shoe.

Fred took a deep breath. He held his shoes in his hands, his heart pounding faster by the second. He didn't want to make noise so he'd removed his shoes. He saw he was in the same livingroom area he'd been in when they'd captured him last week. Nothing had changed. Fred released his breath softly and began to walk. The carpet in the livingroom was quickly replaced by cold hardwood floors. A draft from somewhere ran across Fred's feet, and he had to suppress a shiver.

He passed by the wall that always kept him from seeing the rest of the house. He found himself at another wall. So all the bottom floor had was the livingroom and kitchen? Oh well. Less to search through. Fred began his accent up the stairs. He found that if he walked on the completely left side of the stairs, they didn't creak. So that's how everyone did it?

The stairs felt almost wet under his bare feet. He grimaced at the thought of all the fungus he was probably standing above. Fred got to the top of the stairs and stopped to catch his breath. He was so tense and nervous. He had to calm down, or he may have a heart attack mid-search.

Fred didn't know which room was George's. That was his only issue. He stared down the hall at each room's door without moving from his spot at the top of the stairs. The one directly at the end was just a little different. It was made of finer wood and had what appeared to be a wide peep hole. That was either a meeting room, or it belonged to Malachite. If Malachite brainwashed George, he would probably keep a close eye on him. So maybe George was in the same room as Malachite?

That would explain how Malachite found out so quickly that George wasn't in bed but was, instead, downstairs talking with Fred. Oh, but they better ONLY be sleeping in that room... apart from each other. If he walked in and found them in the same bed or in some suggestive position... he'd rip Malachite's throat out right then and there.

In his excitement, Fred hadn't noticed himself walking closer to the door. Now he stood before it and didn't know what to do. He reached for the doorknob and was about to grab it when another door opened. Someone coughed as they entered the hall. Fred pressed himself into the corner of the hall between Malachite's suspected room and the adjacent room.

The one who'd entered the hallway was unfamiliar and left his door open as he trudged downstairs. Fred peered inside the room and saw three beds in there. Two were empty, one of them ruffled from where that wizard had just left it. Draco was laying in the other bed, sleeping.

Fred took a step toward the room, curious. Draco? Maybe he could ask Draco which room George was in... just to make sure. Right? Someone moved in the room, and Fred froze. He could not afford to be caught just to go see Draco. He took a half step back when he stopped again. The person who had moved was... George! Fred quickly slid into the room and stood against the wall, his heart beating quickly.

George was dressed the same clothes Fred had seen him in that day in the livingroom. He seemed detached, like he was thinking too deeply. George walked to the door that had been left open and shut it quietly. He paused with his hand on the closed door as if considering something. Then he turned and walked toward the window where moonlight was pouring in.

Fred inched over to his brother until he was standing right behind him. His shoes were now sitting at the foot of Draco's bed. He glanced back at the platinum blonde male before focusing all his attention on George. With a deep breath to solidify his confidence, Fred reached out his arms and grabbed George, one hand over his brother's mouth and one around the waist. George gasped and grabbed both of Fred's wrists but couldn't pry him off. The invisibility cloak fluttered to the floor.

"George... You don't understand right now, but this is for your own good," Fred whispered into George's ear. He felt George trembling and wondered if he had scared him that much.

George looked to their left where a full length mirror was. His eyes widened when he saw who was holding him. Somehow, Fred believed George already knew who it was. He leaned his head on George's shoulder. The scent of George filled his senses. What a lovely scent. He'd missed it so much.

"If I let go of your mouth, will you keep quiet? Or do I have to charm you into silence?" Fred asked. George shook his head. Fred slowly removed his hand from George's mouth but kept his brother pulled securely to his chest. George didn't make a sound. He just shivered.

Fred picked Harry's cloak up with his toes and transferred it to his fingers. He tossed the cloak over both George and himself. It probably wouldn't cover their feet now. They were too tall. Next, Fred moved them over to Draco's bed, where he slipped on his shoes. He stumbled a little, but his hold on George kept him steady.

"Just remember, George... You aren't a prisoner," Fred spoke it like a promise. Then Fred closed his eyes and whisked them away.

– – – – – – – – – – – – –

_A little boy sat, wrapped up in a blanket, in a large garden. He was shivering while snow fell all around him. He was hiding under a large oak tree, in a little nook that had been naturally created. His cheeks were red from the cold, and he pulled his blanket closer around him. The blanket fell over his head, completely covering him._

" _Fred!" a voice called out. The bundle of blankets flinched._

" _Fred!?" the voice was closer. The bundle continued to shiver and hugged itself._

" _Fred?...," the voice was right in front of him, and he knew it. The crunch of snow was a dead give away._

" _Fred... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to yell. I'm not mad at you, really. And I don't really want you to die... Fred?" a young George Weasley spoke, kneeling in front of his brother. They were only about 7, and they'd had their first big fight._

_George lifted the blanket off his brother's head and smiled. Fred was huddled, hugging his legs and trembling. Fred didn't look up at him._

" _Fred... You're cold...," George said obviously. He leaned in and hugged his little brother. Fred bit his lip before sliding his arms up and around his brother's back. George smiled and held Fred close to him for warmth. He hooked his fingers around the blanket._

" _Come on, Fred... Let's go inside. Mum's aged ten years while looking for you," George joked lightly. Fred snickered and stood up with George, still attached to him. George laughed and held the blanket over them both with one arm around Fred. Together, they slowly walked back to their house, their first argument over and forgotten._


	10. Chapter 10

The night was quiet, and Harry was nodding off in the Weasley family living room. The room was illuminated by a small fire Harry had lit magically. The warmth of the fire and the blanket he was using made Harry drowsy. Just as his consciousness began to fade, despite his worry over Fred, the fire seemed to gain new life. A figure stumbled out of the flames and woke Harry with a start.

"F-Fred? You're back? What happened?" Harry asked in a hushed voice, standing up. Fred looked tired but pleased.

"Harry... I got George back," Fred murmured. He smiled. Harry beamed.

"Really? Wh-where is he?" Harry asked. Fred adopted a bashful expression and rubbed the back of his head nervously.

"Well... I left him at your house at Grimmauld Place," Fred replied, half avoiding Harry's gaze.

"...What?" Harry asked. "Why? Why didn't you bring him here?"

"Cause... he still doesn't remember anything, and I don't want the others to know about that?" Fred answered as a question, not sure if Harry would accept that answer. Harry sighed.

"So you kidnaped him," Harry said to clarify. Fred nodded and smiled sheepishly. "Did he struggle?"

"Nope. I grabbed him, and he grabbed me. I asked him not to scream, he agreed. I told him it was for his own good, and we left," Fred explained.

"Well that's a little odd," Harry mused. "Maybe it's because you two look alike, and he was curious."

Well pop Fred's bubble. Fred was hoping it was because somewhere inside him, George still remembered and cared about Fred. Harry's idea made a little more logical sense, however. Then again, since when was Fred Weasley ever logical? He would go on believing George remembered him deep down.

"Anyway, let's go. I want to see him personally," Harry said.

Fred couldn't really say no. George was inside Harry's house after all, not Fred's. Fred and George's house wasn't exactly safe. It was the attic to a store. George could apparate out of there easily, unlike Grimmauld Place with it's protective spells. You couldn't apparate out of Grimmauld Place. That's why Fred took George there.

– – – – – – –

George Weasley peeked over the side railing. He didn't see anyone on the floors below. He wondered where his look-a-like had gone. George descended the stairs of Grimmauld Place, looking down each hallway and into each room as he passed it.

Grimmauld Place looked strikingly different now than it had only a short time ago, not that George realized that. The house was surprisingly clean. The house elf heads had been removed from the walls, the snake door knockers replaced with lions, the tacky decor with tasteful banisters, pictures, and furniture. With Kreacher now on Harry's side, things went a lot smoother with the house. The only part about the house that was still distasteful was the picture of Madam Walburga Black, which could not be removed even by magic since magic had it stuck there.

George dragged his hands along the walls and the handrail, sometimes poking portraits, which barked at him to be more respectful. He flinched away from the angry pictures. On the ground floor, George found no one. However, more stairs led him down to a kitchen where there was a fireplace. George poked his head around the corner to see if anyone was there.

"Silly Weasley boy. Don't you test your inventions down here again. Kreacher had to clean up all that stupid pink goo last time," an angry voice almost gave George a heart attack. He plastered himself against the staircases's wall.

An old house elf eyed him suspiciously from a few stairs up. He snorted at George and then made his way into the kitchen. George hadn't even heard him approaching. The fireplace in the kitchen roared to life, producing Harry Potter and Fred Weasley. George's eyes narrowed, and he hid himself in the shadows.

"Welcome home, Master Harry," Kreacher greeted. It wasn't a joyful greeting, but in Kreacher's range of tones it was a kind greeting.

"Hey, Kreacher. Can you make us some tea?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Kreacher said with a short nod of his head. He vanished into the pantry to get the tea, and Harry took a seat at the table.

"I thought Kreacher worked at Hogwarts now," Fred said, watching the house elf and sitting by Harry.

"When school's out, he comes home," Harry explained. "Anyway, how's George?"

"Fine, I guess... He still doesn't remember anything, like I told you. I put him up in the room we stayed in together during the Order of the Phoenix's stay. He seemed calm enough when I left," Fred explained.

George narrowed his eyes in confusion. What were they talking about? Didn't remember what?

"Good. We'll go up and see him in a minute... but do you think you can finish the job? He wont remember anything until Malachite's dead. Will you kill him, or do you want _me_ to do it?" Harry asked. George's eyes dilated. He sprang from the darkness and ran at the two.

"I wont let you!" he yelled angrily.

Harry and Fred jumped to their feet, but George was fast and managed to tackle Harry to the floor. He pressed his full weight down on Harry, pinning the younger male under him. He glared venomously at Harry and snatched Harry's wand from it's slot in Harry's back pocket.

"No, George! Stop it!" Fred exclaimed, hooking his arms under George's arms and pulling up. He wrenched George off of Harry. George's hand opened wide, sending the wand flying. Harry gasped and held his hand out. His wand flew into his hand - wandless magic.

"Let me go! You're a part of this! I wont let you kill Malachite!" George yelled loudly as he struggled in Fred's binding hold.

"George! Stop it! You don't understand! Calm down and just listen! We're only trying to help!" Fred half growled out. He kept his brother held tightly even as he felt George's muscles begin to relax.

"Help...?" he asked, voice a mixture between anger and sadness. "You're going to kill... Malachite."

"George, whatever you think you know about this guy is a lie. He used a spell on you to implant fake memories into your brain. We're your real friends... Please...," Harry tried, pushing himself up on his knees.

George relaxed his entire body, dragging Fred to the floor with his weight. Fred grunted as his knees connected with the ground. George slid a little, mostly just leaning back against Fred. George turned his head to look over his shoulder at Fred. Fred didn't try to hold onto George as his older brother turned around in his arms.

"So Malachite," he began, talking to Fred and ignoring Harry. "He's been lying to me?"

"Y-Yes," Fred stuttered. George looked so confused. He wasn't used to seeing his brother's face like that. George was always the one in control, even when Fred was not.

"So he... doesn't care about me at all? All my memories of him never happened?" George asked, his hands clenching around Fred's shirt and pulling it tight. Fred simply nodded. George grit his teeth and leaned his head against Fred's chest, hiding his expression from view.

"George?" Harry asked. Fred put his hands on George's shoulders.

"I wont-!" George exclaimed, voice muddled with emotions. Harry flinched. Fred tightened his grip a little. "I wont believe you, Harry Potter! I hate you! I don't believe any of it! Malachite is a true friend to me! He wouldn't do something like that!"

Fred frowned deeply. George was still George. He was still loyal to the people he believed were his friends. He was still trying to defend them and the things he held dear. The words may be messed up because of the spell, the subject may be backwards, but it was still George. Fred wrapped his arms around George and hugged him.

"Don't worry, George... I'm going to help you," Fred promised in a whisper.


	11. Chapter 11

" _Oh, Fire Whiskey Snappers!" Fred cursed._

" _What's wrong?" George asked._

" _Nothing. I can't seem get this spell right," Fred explained. He waved his hand in the air, wand gripped in his fingers, and spoke, loudly, the charm they'd learned that day in Flitwick's class. Instead of charming a quill to write what was spoken by it's charmer, like it was supposed to, the quill jumped up and began writing all over Fred's face - although not harshly enough to cut him._

_Fred cursed some more as he hexed the quill to death. George couldn't stop laughing. Fred cast his brother an 'I dare you to keep laughing' look that shut him up quickly. Fred grabbed a nearby rag and began to wipe away the ink on his face._

" _Sorry, Fred. You know it was funny," George said._

" _Yeah... but I can't see the damage to my beautiful face so I can't laugh at it," Fred replied, shrugging and tossing down the rag. George came up behind Fred and snaked his arm around Fred's waist._

" _Here. Let me help you out," George murmured into Fred's ear. His other arm slid down Fred's wand arm. He rested his hand on top of his brother's, making him hold the wand the way they'd been shown in class that day._

" _Oh... Okay," Fred replied stupidly. George smiled and set his chin on Fred's shoulder. He wiggled Fred's arm until it was left to hang loosely._

" _Don't be so tense," George reminded him. To Fred, it might as well have been the most sensual phrase ever ordained._

_George then waved his brother's hand back and forth in the proper motions. On the third motion, George let out the incantation. George's quill, which Fred had yet to destroy, rose up out of it's ink bottle and hovered._

" _See? It's easy," George said. The quill quickly began to scribble down George's words. "Now you try."_

_George released Fred, much to the younger twin's disapproval. Fred hadn't really been paying attention. Still, he'd try. He waved his hand in the way George had, or how he vaguely remembered George moving it. He tried to say the spell as clearly as he could. His own back up quill rose to attention and hovered._

" _Did it work?" Fred asked. The quill scribbled his words on the same paper as George's words. "Hey! I did it!" Fred cheered. George started laughing. "What's so funny?"_

" _If you could see your own face, you'd be laughing too," George laughed out. He led his brother over to a mirror and stopped. Fred's eyes widened. His face was completely blue from the previous ink._

" _Trick ink?!" he asked in shock. George couldn't stop snickering. "You jerk! I'm gonna be blue for a week!" Fred scolded._

_He turned around and started hitting George over the head. George stopped trying to hold in his laughter. He just started chuckling loudly as he blocked the attacked. Then he started fighting back. Fred tackled George and they fell back onto the common room's couch. There was no one else around, but no one would have found this weird anyway. The twins wrestled until they fell off the couch, George pinning Fred beneath him. There they stopped, both panting and tired._

" _So... I give. You win," Fred panted out between laughs._

" _You kidding? Neither of us wins," George snorted. "Our classmates win, cause they'll get to laugh at your blue face for a week."_

" _You're... such a jerk," Fred whined playfully. George laughed._

" _Yea... But don't worry. You look good even when you're blue," he replied. Fred blushed, but it was hidden by the blue-ness. Later on that day, someone would ask him what happened and he'd reply with 'I'm feeling rather down, lately. Give me a hug?'_

– – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Fred sat at the dining table. His forehead was resting against his hands, propped up off the table. It was hard to tell if he was awake or asleep. Was he dreaming or in deep thoughts? The crackling of the nearby fire and the sounds of dishes washing mixed well and could very well have lulled him into a nap while sitting up.

The younger Weasley twin took in a deep breath and raised his head. He leaned back in his chair and stretched, yawning a little. When he surveyed the room, he found Harry in the doorway.

"Hey," he greeted.

"You know, if you're tired, you're more than welcome to go to sleep. You were up all night," Harry said. Fred grinned.

"Yeah, well... I had things to do," Fred said to shoo away all thoughts of him being tired. "I'm just glad George went to sleep."

"Yeah. He was pretty worked up. I suppose I should keep my distance from him for now, hm? He wouldn't even look at me, but he clung to you well enough," Harry sighed. "I'll go back to the Borrow and tell everyone you're here because you needed a break - some alone time. If you need anything, you know where to find me, and I'll pop in to check on you when I have time."

"Thanks, Harry. This means a lot to me," Fred replied and bowed his head back against his refolded hands.

Harry frowned and took the seat across from Fred. They didn't talk for a good five minutes. Kreacher had time to set some tea on the table and leave to clean or... something. Fred sighed, and Harry grunted. Fred raised his head and gave Harry a quizzical look.

"Fred Weasley shouldn't sigh like that," Harry explained. "None of the Weasley's should, but especially not Fred or George Weasley."

Fred couldn't help but smile.

"Fred... You know what needs to happen now. So just tell me if you can't handle it, and I'll take care of Malachite. George wont go back to normal unless Malachite's de-," Harry tried explaining.

"I know that, Harry," Fred interrupted him. "I just don't think... they'll sit quietly when they realize George is gone... and I sort of feel like I have to prove to George that what we're saying it true. You know... in case his memory doesn't come back."

"Fred," Harry tried. Fred shook his head.

"I've been thinking over all the possibilities and one of them is that even with Malachite dead, George wont regain his proper memories. If that happens, he's going to hate us for killing his friend. I think I need to convince him we're not the bad guys before we attack Malachite," Fred suggested. Harry sighed this time.

"I agree but... if we're presented the chance to take him out, I'm going to go for it - with or without your help, Fred," he said determinedly. Fred nodded.

"Don't worry. I understand that. I have no complaints there," Fred replied. "And now that we've cleared that up... I think it's time I go take a nap."

Fred was smiling again. Harry couldn't help but return the infectious smile. It was hard to be serious around Fred when he did that - just smiling. Fred stood up and sighed in a more relaxed fashion.

"Have a good nap," Harry called after Fred as the younger Weasley waved and disappeared up the steps.

Fred walked up toward his room. He had opted to sleep in the room beside George's instead of in the same room. As he passed his old room, Fred opened it a crack so he could see his brother. George was sleeping peacefully in the dim room. The morning light was shining from under the long curtains, but it wasn't strong enough to break through the thick fabric. George looked so peaceful in sleep, like nothing had happened. Fred wanted to go lay down beside George and sleep. He missed him so much.

Fred found himself standing by George and watching him breathe. He knelt by the bed and moved some of George's hair out of his face.

"George," he murmured. "God damn... You don't even realize... how much I love you."

George just continued to breathe in the deep rhythm of slumber. He hadn't heard anything, had he? He hadn't noticed the way Fred tore himself up while he was still a prisoner. George had no idea, with or without memories. How much more would Fred have to love George before George noticed? How much more love was there? Fred sighed and stood up. He excused himself from the room. Back in his own temporary room, Fred collapsed on the bed. He was so tired, of being awake, of life, of everything. Without even getting under the covers, Fred let himself fall into slumber.

– – – – – – –

For a change in pace, since it's chapter 10.

Preview: Chapter 11 - Touching

Silence enveloped them. Fred missed the laughter and the smile on George's face.

George reached out a hand toward Fred. Fingertips brushed against Fred's cheek, moving his hair. Fred's heart was fluttering rapidly. Why was... George touching him? George placed both hands on Fred's face, beside his eyes. He began to feel out Fred's face, slowly.

"Fred." The sound of George saying his name was like music, a magic all it's own. Fred realized George had been calling him by name all morning, and he had missed that sound.

George nodded. He slipped one of his hands behind Fred's neck. He leaned closer to Fred, closing the distance between them and, more importantly, their faces. Fred could literally feel George's breath on his face, on his lips. Fred's lips parted, and he leaned a little closer to George.


	12. Chapter 12

The sun rose high in the sky. Muggles walked down the street this way and that, completely ignorant of the existence of a missing house. It was about noon, so many workers were stopping by their houses for lunch before they had to go back to work. Couples met in the street and greeted each other with kisses. The sun invaded one room more than normal because the curtains had not been shut properly. It didn't bother the person sleeping in that room, though.

Fred Weasley slept on without taking notice of the world. He'd been sleeping since dawn, about six hours earlier. The door to his room was open about half way, and he was not alone in the room. George Weasley was staring at him in a curious manner.

George had woken up about an hour ago. After exploring the house and finding it empty, George had come back up to his room. It was through his initial curiosity that he even knew this room was here or occupied. Now he was staring at his kidnapper.

George squatted down by Fred's bed. Fred was laying on his stomach, head turned to the side, head not even on the pillow. His arms were limply laid to his sides in no specific orderly placement, and one of his legs sat in a position that cast one of his feet off the bed. Fred was fully dressed, but his clothes were ruffled from being slept in.

A hand reached out toward Fred's face. It hesitated when Fred groaned in his sleep. George leaned his head a little closer to the bed, examining Fred's features. His hand moved forward again, lifting some hair out of his view of Fred's face. He wrinkled his nose and dropped Fred's hair back into place. George sat back a bit and looked Fred over from head to toe. They were really identical, weren't they?

How did George have someone like this, who looked exactly like him, and not know about it? Were they long lost twins? This was more than mere polyjuice potion. Not only that, he felt a connection to his look-a-like. He'd heard of such things between twins. Were they related? Was that possible? Had Harry been truthful when he said Malachite had changed his memories? Maybe George really knew this twin person of his but just didn't remember it. No. George would try to continue to believe Malachite until proven otherwise. Still... strange things had been happening lately. Were they related to this?

Fred made another noise in his sleep and shifted his position. George fell back in surprise. His connection with the floor didn't make too much noise, but it was enough to wake Fred from his weakening slumber. Fred's eyes fluttered open like you see in movies. The sun from his window blanketed him, and he groaned, covering his eyes.

George tried to move to leave before he was noticed. The movement made noise, however, and Fred heard it. The younger Weasley twin opened his eyes wide and looked over. He seemed even more shocked when he saw George. Fred sat up and groaned.

"George?" he asked, rubbing sleep from his left eye. "What's wrong? Why are you on the floor?"

"Um...," George replied dumbly. Fred looked to the window and gasped lightly.

"Oh. Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Yeah," George said, deciding that was a good excuse.

"Sorry. Come on. I'll show you where the kitchen is," Fred said and waved for George to follow him as he got up and headed for the door. George decided to just follow Fred like some lost puppy. Fred didn't mind.

Down the many stairs and into the kitchen, Fred led George and pretended like it was just another day... like he wasn't actually having to show his brother where the kitchen was and how to find the food.

"Morning, Kreacher," Fred greeted.

"Yes, Weasleys...," Kreacher retorted. Fred smiled hopelessly. Kreacher would never like them as much as he liked Harry, especially after the exploding pink goo incident. Kreacher stalked off to take a plate to the table.

"Does he always put s's on the end of names?" George asked. Weasleys sounded plural. Wasn't Fred just 'Weasley'?

"No. He was talking to both of us. You're a Weasley too," Fred replied, poking George on the nose and smiling as he followed Kreacher.

George wrinkled his nose and blushed. Fred couldn't help but feel happy about that reaction.

"So are those delicious looking cakes for us?" Fred asked. Kreacher was setting glasses on the table now. Kreacher rolled his eyes.

"Yes yes. Master says to take care of you, so Kreacher will... No matter how much he worries...," Kreacher added in a dangerous, low voice. George seemed a little frightened of Kreacher. How cute.

"Thanks, Kreacher," Fred pretended like he hadn't heard the little warning in Kreacher's voice. He didn't plan on blowing anything up today so Kreacher didn't have to worry. "Well go on, George. Have something to eat."

George stood by and watched Fred sit down by the food that was now magically floating over to the table. There wasn't a lot, considering it was only for two people. Still, George eyed it all warily. Fred rolled his eyes. He grabbed a piece of bread and took a bite out of the corner. Then Fred poured himself some pumpkin juice and drank it all calmly in front of George. His brother's eyes watched him the whole time. This seemed to be enough to convince George that the food wasn't deadly.

George finally plopped down in the chair across from Fred and picked up a roll. He stared at it, raised his eyes to look at Fred, and then returned his gaze to the bread in his hands. His stomach growled. Fred paused in eating. The brothers locked eyes and stared at each other. Fred's lips twitched upward. George's lips parted and took in a slow breath. Then a smile infected George's face. Fred chuckled.

Soon they were both laughing. They were laughing at nothing, really. Sure, during a normal day, they may laugh about such a thing together... but they were almost like strangers now. Laughing about something so stupid... What did they think they were doing? But Fred couldn't stop. It felt so good to laugh, to see George's eyes shutting in the force of his laughter.

"Go on, eat, you loser," Fred spoke through his snickering, pushing George's bread toward George's mouth. George's laughter slowed and stopped. He bit into the bread.

Silence enveloped them. Fred missed the laughter and the smile on George's face. On a normal day, it wouldn't have seemed odd for them to go quiet but still smile at each other. Today, George had diverted his eyes, his mouth in a thin line as though thinking about something extremely difficult. Fred couldn't keep smiling while looking at that.

"George," Fred began. George's eyes peeked at him from across the table and through George's hair, but George himself didn't look at Fred.

"Hm?"

"N-Nothing. Never mind," Fred mumbled out quickly. He didn't know what to say. What was he _supposed_ to say? Fred couldn't think of any words for the current situation. He chewed on some breakfast slowly and quietly. How could he prove to George that they were brothers, related, loved? How could he prove to George that Malachite was lying to him, that they were the good guys, that everything he knew was a lie, and, most importantly, that Fred loved him more than air?

"Fred," the voice was close and Fred almost fell out of his seat. His head snapped to the side where George was leaning over and staring at him.

"Y-Yeah?" Fred stuttered in his shock. George backed off a little.

"Well... You looked... upset," George explained, scratching his cheek. "And... Well I was curious."

"About what?" Fred asked. George looked everywhere but at Fred. He seemed unsure about whatever it was he was planning to ask or do.

"Well... Can you just... not move for a minute?" George asked. Fred regarded George curiously. What could he be planning? Was he going to try and escape? Steal Fred's wand?

"Huh?" was all Fred could come up with. George blushed darker.

"I'm just curious so... don't move. And I promise I wont do anything bad. So... will you?" George asked. Fred stared straight into his brother's eyes. They seemed honest enough, filled with embarrassed pleading. Fred nodded.

George let out a short breath and pulled his chair around the table. He sat in front of Fred, who wasn't moving just like he'd been asked to do. George stared straight into Fred's eyes for a moment. Fred watched as George's eyes scanned over his face and hair. George reached out a hand toward Fred. It hesitated. Fred almost went to pull it closer, to show him it was okay, but George had told him not to move.

Finally, George's fingertips brushed against Fred's cheek, moving his hair. Fred did his best not to show how the light touch made him feel. His heart was fluttering rapidly. Why was... George touching him?

George placed both hands on Fred's face, beside his eyes. He began to feel out Fred's face, slowly, as if he wasn't sure what he was looking for. Fred closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

"George...," he began.

"We're related..., aren't we?" George asked. He sounded as though he'd heard the news through gossip and wasn't completely sure it was true, but he also sounded defeated as though he'd given up on it not being true.

"Yes," Fred tried to keep his voice clear and steady. George's fingers were in his hair now. Fred kept his eyes closed though.

"You're... Fred Weasley... and we're twins," George continued his questioning statements. Fred fought not to nod. He didn't trust his voice.

"Yes," he said, this time quieter. George's hands had left his hair and were on Fred's throat now. They moved swiftly, not lingering long on the neck. They felt out Fred's tense shoulders and muscled chest.

"Fred," George said, hands pausing. The sound of George saying his name was like music, a magic all it's own. Fred realized George had been calling him by name all morning, and he had missed that sound.

"Yes?" Fred asked, voice back to normal volume now that the hands had stopped.

"Why wont you look at me?"

Fred's eyes opened. George was starring at him with a concerned expression. Fred blushed. He'd been so wrapped up in George's touch, in his voice, that he'd forgotten to open his eyes again. He had almost been certain this was all a dream, but George was really there. Fred composed himself and smiled a little.

"Sorry, George. I was distracted," Fred apologized. "Did you have anymore questions?"

"Yeah," George nodded. He slipped one of his hands behind Fred's neck. He leaned closer to Fred, closing the distance between them and, more importantly, their faces.

"And what exactly is your... question?" Fred asked, eyes having trouble deciding what to focus on, George's eyes or his lips. George was starring right into Fred's soul. Fred's heart rate sped up. It was almost painfully fast.

"Why is it... that when I see you all upset... I want to...," George's voice was getting quiet. Fred wasn't sure if George's eyes were closing or if that was just a trick because of his own eyes sliding shut. He could literally feel George's breath on his face, on his lips. Fred's lips parted, and he leaned a little closer to George.

The fire in the corner roared to life. Both twins ripped apart from each other, Fred falling over with his seat backwards. Both twins watched the fire with wide, shocked eyes. Then Harry walked into the kitchen. George glared. For once, Fred considered not trying to stop George if the older brother decided to attack.

Harry looked over the scene - Fred on his back, chair toppled over, and George sitting next to him, bolt upright and glaring at Harry. He took in a deep breath and smiled.

"Sorry. Did I interrupt something?"


	13. Chapter 13

" _George, I'd know you anywhere," Fred muttered out one night. George pushed himself off of the grass._

" _Where did that come from?" he asked. They were lying on the lawn by the great lake. Perfects were supposed to patrol for students out of bed, but once you were outside, there was a slim chance they'd find you. The brothers were taking advantage of the clear sky to watch the stars._

" _I don't know," Fred shrugged. "I just thought about it."_

" _Well that was silly. Of course you'd know me anywhere. We look exactly alike," George replied, laying back down._

" _No." Fred shook his head. "Even if we didn't look the same, I'd know you."_

" _And I'd know you," George said. Fred turned his head to look at his brother._

" _How so?" he asked._

" _The way you walk," George explained. "The way you move, more like it. We're just different from other people, Fred. You're different. If you weren't you, if you had different eyes and hair and everything... I'm sure you'd still move the same."_

" _... how I move?" Fred asked, voice devoid of any mockery or teasing. George grunted in a 'I can't explain it' fashion. "I understand," Fred said. "You're different too, George."_

– – – – – – – – – – – –

Harry sat between the two brothers at the table. Fred was leaning his head on his left hand, his elbow propped up on the table. George was leaning his head in his right hand, elbow propped up identically. They were like mirror images of each other. The only issue was that they seemed upset. Harry turned his head to either side. One the one hand, George wasn't trying to kill him, despite sitting right behind him. One the other hand, neither of the twins was speaking.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked.

"No," both twins replied. They turned their heads to catch each other's gaze before returning to their previous positions.

"Are you sure? You're both acting... tense," Harry said. George scoffed and rolled his eyes. Fred sighed.

"Harry, honestly... it's nothing you would understand. Just drop it and tell us why you're here," he ordered as kindly as he could in his current 'upset with Harry' mood.

Harry wasn't dumb. He could tell something had happened to make the twins angry, but he did his best to ignore it while he spoke. George inched away from Harry and turned his head to face Fred. Fred kept his head turned away from Harry and George. He could tell George was staring at him, but he didn't know what kind of expression he should put on if he turned around to meet his brother's gaze. George had been about to kiss him! He was sure of it!

"So Hermione found out where they were going to attack and has already set up a little trap. They'll never get near the village," Harry explained.

"Huh?" Fred asked, turning around. He hadn't been listening at all. As he turned around, he came face to face with George. A blushed covered his face but was offset by his naturally red hair and tan skin.

"I said we got another letter today telling us about Malachite's death eaters. Hermione read it and basically decoded it. We're laying a trap for them. Hermione's on guard duty right now. We're each taking shifts to watch the area. When the wanna be death eaters enter the target area, Hermione will activate her trap and they'll be stuck. That's when we...," Harry glanced at George. "Um... finish the job."

Despite basically flat out saying they would kill Malachite then, George didn't even flinch. He was too busy watching Fred. Harry kept his gaze mostly on Fred as well, so he didn't notice where George's eyes were locked. Fred looked down at the table, avoiding George's eyes. His nail dragged across the surface of the wood but left no impressions.

"Awesome.. So it'll all be cleared up soon?" Fred asked, trying to seem excited. He couldn't help his wandering thoughts.

"Probably. So what have you two been up to this morning?" Harry asked. Fred flinched at the mention. His face lit up, but he turned it away in time for no one to notice.

"We were discussing serious issues before you so rudely burst in," George spoke up. Fred looked at George's face. Despite the angry tone in his voice, George almost sounded like the normal George, like he was joking. It was just like that time with Snape in their first year.

"What kind of issues?" Harry asked.

Harry could shove off right now, Fred thought. However, he knew Harry hadn't meant to interrupt probably the most passionate moment of Fred's life. Not to mention, Fred was curious as to how George would reply. The older Weasley twin shrugged.

"Basics. Who I am and how we're related. Simple stuff. I was... learning," George said. Fred could swear George was smirking at him with only his eyes. Fred must be imagining it, though, because Harry didn't seem to notice anything of the sort.

"So you believe Fred then?" Harry asked, a hopeful smile on his face and a happy tone in his voice.

"Yes... so far," George replied. The older Weasley sat up straight and flexed his fingers. "I haven't had a shower in a day or so. Do you mind showing me to the bathroom?" This question was directed at Fred.

"Uh... sure," Fred nodded. "Keep me updated, Harry. I want to be there to help fight."

Harry nodded to Fred. Fred began to walk from the kitchen, and George followed him. Harry watched them until they were gone. Little hands reached up and grabbed a plate off the table. Kreacher was there. Harry smiled at him, and Kreacher grimaced toward the stairs.

"Those two were awfully close to each other... very close... with their mouths and their hands," he muttered sourly as he walked back to the kitchen. Harry raised an eyebrow. He looked toward the stairs where the twins had vanished.

Close with their mouths? ... Ah! So that's what Harry had walked in on?! That would explain the proximity and their angry moods afterward. They weren't angry at each other, they were angry at him!... Should Harry be shocked at this information?

Upstairs, Fred pushed open the door to the bathroom. He beckoned for George to go in. He left the door open and walked inside after his brother. Fred pointed to the cabinet.

"Towels are under there. Bath wash and shampoo and all that good stuff is up in the corner of the shower. If you need anything else, just call me," Fred explained.

Fred turned to leave, and George grabbed him from behind. Fred gasped. George had a tight hold on his shoulders. It seemed like both an act of anger and an act of complete kindness. George walked up next to Fred, not releasing his shoulders.

"Sorry about earlier," he said. "I don't know what came over me. If that's why you're nervous around me... please forget about it."

How could Fred forget about it? George had been so close to kissing him! That was one of the things Fred only dreamed about! Forget about it. Yeah right. He'd never forget about it. He didn't know what prompted George to try that, but whatever it was... it was a fleeting moment of bliss for Fred. He didn't want to forget about it.

"I'm fine, George. Honestly. It didn't bother me at all," Fred half lied. It bothered him, but not in a negative way. "Take your bath, and I'll see you after."

"...Alright," George accepted at last. His grip on Fred weakened and finally dropped. Fred took a deep breath, smiled, and left the bathroom. The door shut behind him, Fred finally let his face show his feelings. He was shocked and surprised, but happy about the event as well. And Gosh Darn It! Why did Harry have to pop in like that?!

George would probably never try anything like that again! Like the guy had said, he didn't know what came over him. That meant it was an 'in the moment' thing for George. Damn. The last time Fred felt George's lips was their first year at Hogwarts, nearly 9 years ago. He wanted to remind himself what they felt like... right now, but George was taking a shower now and probably wouldn't try that again.

Fred covered his mouth and looked at the floor. Dammit Harry... It wasn't Harry's fault but it made Fred feel better when he blamed someone else for ruining the moment. Fred's hair fell into his face, casting shadows over his skin. He ran his hands down his face, ruffling his own bangs. He could still remember George's fingers drifting over his skin, still feel the tingles they left behind. He had to rub them off or he'd just be upset all day.

Fred fell back against the wall next to the bathroom's door. He curled his fingers in, catching his bangs in the cracks. His balled fists pressed into his eyes, and he took deep breaths to try and keep himself from letting loose tears he knew were waiting. Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! He shouldn't be crying just because he was being denied something that was never his to begin with!

"Stupid... Stupid. Stop it," he whispered harshly to himself. The water from the shower had become background noise to his dreary thoughts. "Stop it, Fred... Stop it," he continued, but it was no use. The water was leaking out of his eyes and around his fists. "You're..." Fred slipped down the wall. "... such an idiot..."


	14. Chapter 14

Fred's head rolled to the side. His arms were hugging each other. His right leg was bent up but his left laid out straight. He groaned in his dream filled daze. The door about four feet away from him opened, but it wasn't enough to wake him. George stepped into the hall, looking around for Harry or Fred. He was dressed in his clothes again, but they were clean now. He didn't know how, but he suspected the house elf did it. George's hair dripped down onto the towel he had wrapped around his shoulders.

He shut the bathroom door as quietly as he could. When it clicked shut, he noticed his clone was sitting against the wall just down the hall. George regarded Fred curiously for a moment. Why was he sitting there? Did he not trust George to take a shower like a good little wizard? Still, it looked like Fred was sleeping, so it wasn't as probable that Fred was 'guarding' him. Maybe he'd just sat there to think and drifted off.

George stepped closer to Fred, being careful not to wake him up. He knelt by his brother and stared some more. He suddenly wondered who was older between the two... if he was going to believe they were related. Okay, so he couldn't come up with any other reasons why they'd look the same, therefore they were related. Whether they were separated as children or Fred was telling the truth and his memories were faked by a spell, George would accept they were related.

George leaned in a bit, eyes narrowing. Either his vision was going or Fred had tear patterns on his face. His stomach churned for some reason, but he ignored it. Why? Why was Fred crying? George had been with Fred only moments ago, and he'd seemed fine. Had he cried himself to sleep while George was showering? How long had he taken in the shower?

"Fred," George called, trying to wake his brother. Fred stirred but did not wake. "Fred," he tried again, putting more emphasis on the name. Fred grunted and his eyes peeked open.

"Uh... huh?" Fred asked, opening his eyes further and looking around. He seemed a bit unsure of where he was, so George had to assume Fred hadn't meant to sleep. Yep... So what had been so bad that Fred could so easily cry himself to sleep?

"You're horrible," George scolded. Fred gave him a perturbed look. "I could have easily stolen your wand just now and killed you."

"You wouldn't dare," Fred half warned half dared.

"How would you know?" George asked, crossing his arms. Fred crossed his arms in an argument-like way as well.

"Because you're my brother, and you don't attack someone when they're helpless... unless they're trying to kill you," Fred added quickly.

"How do I know you're not trying to kill me?" George asked. There it was again. Fred got the distinct notion that despite the serious question, George was joking. Was this George's memories coming back to him? George seemed to be teasing people more now. He'd done it twice today already!

"I don't know. Do I seem dangerous?" Fred asked in a joking manner. George grinned, but not one of the wide grins he used to give. This one was more like he'd remembered an inside joke, although Fred knew he was responding to the tease.

"Yep. You look pretty fierce, Fred," George replied.

Fred smiled broadly and stood up. George followed suit and stared right into Fred's eyes. Fred, on the other hand, couldn't keep his eyes from looking his brother up and down. The lingering heat from the shower was making George's clothes stick to him a little, and the way he looked with his hair wet was absolutely fantastic. George had no shoes on, but Fred had kidnaped him in the middle of the night... from his bedroom, so it was understandable.

"What are you doing?" George asked once Fred's eyes had returned to his face. Fred shrugged.

"I had forgotten what you looked like when you came out of the shower," he replied. "Excuse me. I need to wash up."

Fred slid past George and into the bathroom. He didn't close the door completely, though, so George looked in. By 'wash up', Fred had meant washing his face. Fred could feel the stains on his face without really knowing the causes of the feelings. However, he knew he cried before sleeping so he figured they must have left some impression or something on his cheeks.

George's eyes narrowed. Fred finished washing his face and then washed his hands for the simple reason that he could. That was enough. Fred dried off completely and stepped out of the bathroom. George was standing at the top of the stairs, looking down them.

"You could go down without me," Fred said. George turned his head to acknowledge his brother.

"Yes, but I don't like Potter, remember? I'd rather only see him when I have to. If you're there, at least there's something else to focus on," George explained. He took one step down the wide staircase when Fred's hand caught him on the shoulder.

The younger twin smiled and nudged his brother to return to the top. George took a step back up and regarded his completely identical self curiously. Fred pulled out a wand from his back pocket and held it out to George in his open palm.

"I don't understand," George said, fingers reaching slowly, hesitantly, toward the offered tool. Fred shrugged and pushed the wand up into George's unsure hand. George grasped it, a familiar feeling effecting him.

"It's yours," Fred explained. "We have the exact same wand type and make. That one's yours. I've been using it for a few days now. _My_ wand is still in your 'Crystal Manor' wherever you guys put it after you took it from me."

George's eyes widened. He'd completely forgotten about that! He remembered taking Fred's wand, but he'd never even wondered how Fred had a wand to use when they hadn't returned it to him. George turned his shocked eyes down onto the wand in his hand. He examined it from tip to handle. He ran his fingers over its wood and admired its simple yet suitable appearance.

George closed his eyes and held his head.

"You okay, George?" Fred asked.

"No... I don't feel too...," George faded out as he began to wobble.

George's left foot stepped back to balance him, but ended up halfway off the top step. Fred's eyes widened. He quickly grabbed hold of George, but it was too late. George fell back, down the stairs, Fred along with him. Fred, trying to pull George up, now became more of George's cushion, hitting everything on the way down that George would've hit otherwise.

Their bodies stopped one flight down but neither moved. Hurried footsteps were heard running up from the kitchen.

"Fred? George? What happened? What was that noise? Are you alright?" Harry called up the stairs.

George rolled off of Fred and groaned. He held his head, but the uneasy feeling he'd had was gone. George turned around to examine his brother. Fred was sprawled out on the landing, head looking up, arms angled out but close to his waist - a safety net for George. Something else George noticed was that Fred wasn't moving.

"Fred? Are you alright?" he asked, holding his stomach. He was afraid he may have a tiny concussion. Fred didn't move. "Fred?" he asked a bit louder. He pushed on Fred's shoulder. Fred still didn't respond.

As Harry appeared at the bottom of the next flight of stairs, George continued to try and get Fred to answer him. Still, Fred remained silent and unmoving. George's heart rate sped up. He didn't understand why he was getting so worked up, but he continued to call out to Fred and shake him.

"Fred!" he screamed.


	15. Chapter 15

"Fred!" George screamed. Harry dropped to his knees by the two of them. He pushed his way in, past George's trembling arms and fists, clenched around Fred's clothes. Harry set his ear against Fred's chest and strained to hear a heartbeat over George's panicked breathing and continuing pathetic calls for Fred. Finally, Harry picked himself up, sitting back on his legs.

"W-Well? I-Is he... Is he alright?" George asked, voice laced with worry he didn't understand.

"He's alive," Harry assured George. "But we need to get help. George, go back to your room and don't come out."

"Like hell! Fred needs help!" George yelled angrily. Harry glared at George so fiercely that the older twin actually flinched back.

"Fred has done everything to make sure your family doesn't know about your memory loss and how you were working for Malachite," his voice was laced with anger and came out fast. "If you want to help him, you will stay in that room while I get your family over here to help me fix him up. Do you understand?"

George calmed his ragged breathing enough to nod and stuttered out an "O-Okay." Harry nodded back and stood back from Fred's body. George backed up too, taking a few steps up the stairs to give Harry some room. With a flick of Harry's wand, Fred was lifted into the air. Harry gave George a look that said 'Room. Now.' and began to levitate Fred down the stairs.

"O-Okay...," George breathed out again. He watched Fred until he floated out of sight. This was all his fault! He had some stupid dizzy spell by the stairs and now Fred was incapacitated!

The next thing George remembered was closing the door to his room. He paced around and tried to calm himself down. He shouldn't be so worked up over this. He only remembered Fred from the time he'd been captured by Malachite's group and the time they'd spent together in this house. Why was he so worked up? Was this his... underlying, true memories acting up? Was this the result of years of brotherly bonding and love springing forth?

Brotherly love? What a load of crap. That may have been what they were, but that's not the emotion George experienced when he was left alone with Fred. If this was his latent memory acting up, he would sure as hell like to know just what he used to be like. Fred was his brother, his twin, and yet when he was left alone with Fred... George wanted to hold him tightly and... Well, like that almost incident down in the dining room this morning.

Thinking of things besides what had just happened helped keep George calm. He took a few deep breaths and finally got his heart to slow. He walked to his door, and his hand hovered over the handle. How long had he been in here? He was curious about Fred. Had anyone had time to check on Fred? George wanted to check on Fred too.

George cracked open his door and stuck his head out. He heard a low murmur of voices from below. That had to be the help Harry had gone to get. That was his family. His family? George considered the usage of the word. He stopped to try and imagine his family but nothing came to him. So unless he had been orphaned at a young age, Malachite really had altered his memories.

He remembered Malachite as a long time friend, someone he used to joke with and prank people with. Yet, the more George brought up those memories, the more he swore Malachite's hair was turning red. Was that because of spending so much time with Fred? Or was that the memory trying to return to normal?

George snuck out of his room and went to the stairs, making as little noise as possible. He peered over the edge but he couldn't see anything. They were down in the living room. George descended a few steps when a head of flaming red hair rushed into sight on the bottom floor. It wasn't Fred though. This was a girl.

"Hurry, Ginny!" a older woman's voice urged. Ginny? That must be the girl. George hurried down the next flight and watched as Ginny reentered the living room. He could barely see into the room in question. What was going on?

Several faces walked past the opening. A male around Harry's age stood right by Harry. He wore a maroon sweater with an R on it. He was leaning over a bit, offering to help. A man much older than the others waved his hands to tell him not to help. A woman the same apparent age as that man was leaning over Fred, wand out and muttering words under her breath. Ginny appeared in his slight view again, long enough to hand her mother a pack of ice.

And Fred. George could see Fred, or at least part of his chest. Suddenly, as if someone had punched him in the gut, Fred sat up and gasped. George's heart almost stopped beating in the shock it caused. Fred coughed a bit and fell back onto the couch or whatever he was laying on.

"Fred? Fred?" the older woman called out. "Can you hear me?"

"G-George...," Fred's weakened voice replied. George clutched the railing of the stairs and bent to his knees. He leaned his face between two of the bars, watching with sad and distant eyes. He was resisting the urge to respond to Fred's call.

"Bless his soul... Always thinking about his brother first... silly boy," the woman scolded, but her tone was relieved. George decided then. That must be their mother. She reached her hand out of George's view to pet Fred's head. George just watched Fred's chest move up and down as he breathed.

It seemed like forever before someone spoke again. The guy with the R on his shirt was the one talking, but George couldn't see him in his line of vision. He just recognized the voice from earlier.

"Is he gonna be alright?" he asked.

"He'll be fine. He'll have one hell of a headache for awhile, probably. But he'll be peachy by tomorrow," Miss Weasley assured.

"No... I'm dying," Fred's voice whined out dramatically. The others in the room laughed softly.

"He's making jokes. He'll survive," Ginny said. She gave Harry a fleeting look that George defined as long suppressed love. Then she was gone from his sight again.

"Thank you guys for coming. I didn't know what to do with him on my own. I'm not as good with healing things as you are, Miss Weasley," Harry thanked. Miss Weasley smiled.

"No, thank you for calling us. We can take him home now," she replied.

"No. I'm staying here," Fred argued.

"But Fred-," Mr. Weasley began.

"I don't want to go back home just yet," Fred said, voice steadier. "But... I'll come home soon. I promise."

The room was filled with silence. Finally, the family seemed to accept Fred's request. One by one, George watched his family exit the room and head toward the kitchen - the only room with a fireplace. Ginny, Miss Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and the boy with the R on his shirt. The boy gave a last comment, something about Fred being careful not to trip over his own feet again. Then they were vanishing down the stairs. None of them even glanced up. None of them noticed George above them.

Harry walked them to the fireplace, to probably give them hugs and thank them again... or something stupid like that. George inched his way down the stairs again. He could hear the fireplace roaring to life with each family member it sucked away. He poked his head in the living room.

Fred was laying there, a pack of ice on his head and his eyes closed. George frowned and walked in slowly. Fred didn't even try to see who it was. He just laid there. George decided then. He wasn't upset because of the fall anymore. Or... He was still upset that he'd gotten Fred hurt so badly, but he was more upset, more hurt because he hadn't been able to do anything. He hadn't been allowed to help Fred at all because of some silly memory curse he was under. That's what hurt the most.

Fred looked over to see who was there in the room with him now.

"George?" he asked. George fell to his knees beside Fred and then fell back onto his legs. He stared at Fred for a long moment. Then George sat back on his butt and bent his knees up. He put his face in his hands, but he did not cry.

"I'm sorry," he apologized through his palms. Fred couldn't tear his eyes away. He couldn't think of anything to say to George at all. He wanted to say 'it's not your fault', but he knew George would just argue that, and he wasn't in the mood for an argument.

Fred didn't know what to do. So he put his hand out and touched the top of George's head. He pat him twice before George's hand reached up and grabbed his wrist. George held Fred's wrist in both hands and hid his face by letting his bangs fall forward. He just held it.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured again.


	16. Chapter 16

It had been nearly an hour since Fred had fallen down the stairs. As far as his family knew, it was just Fred not paying attention to where he was going, pure accident. Only the three people at Number 12 Grimmauld Place knew any different. George sat in the corner of the livingroom, on the floor, examining his wand. It was rather interesting to watch for about five minutes and then it got annoying cause you couldn't tell what the bloody hell he was thinking about as he continued to flip it around and roll it between his fingers.

Harry was sitting on the couch and thinking up a plan. He knew Hermione's plan to ambush the wanna be death eaters, but what if Malachite didn't show up? They'd need a plan to get into the Crystal Manor. Harry paused.

"Oh! Fred, I forgot to tell you. We figured out why it's called the Crystal Manor," Harry spoke up, looking at his friend. Fred was sitting on the other side of the couch, not really doing much of anything.

"Oh yeah? Why?" Fred asked, interested.

"That's Malachite's last name," George answered before Harry could. "His name is Malachite Crystal."

Harry and Fred stared at George for a moment. It had been the first thing out of George's mouth in almost 45 minutes. He'd seemed like a zombie over there in the corner, so quiet that you could forget he was there.

"Oh. I suppose that makes sense," Fred replied when he finally decided to break the silence. "Though that's a pretty funny last name for a guy like Malachite." Fred grinned.

"Yeah," George agreed softly, a smile on his face as if remembering another inside joke. Then he looked a bit troubled, as if confused by something he'd thought of.

Fred continued to watch him, curious. Was George remembering something? That had to be why he kept smiling like that and why he'd been joking all today...well.., until Fred's fall that is. Now George seemed to be punishing himself. Fred leaned toward George, over the arm of the couch, and opened his mouth to speak. There was a sudden familiar roar and Ginny's voice rang through the house.

"Harry!" she cried out, obviously running. Fred's eyes widened. George looked up in surprise. Harry seemed to panic as well, hands crumpling up the paper he'd been writing on.

Fred thought fast. He couldn't let Ginny realize George was back and didn't recognize her! Even if he DID recognize her, they couldn't have her running back in excitement to tell the others about him. It just wasn't an option right now. Without saying anything, Fred threw himself behind the couch and out of sight. Harry looked toward the twins, as if to warn them with his eyes, and caught sight of Fred's foot disappearing behind the sofa. George stared at where he could see Fred. He was probably the only one would could still see him.

"Harry!" Ginny finally arrived at the door. She walked over to Harry with as much grace as she could manage. "This letter came for you," she said.

Harry took the letter, which had thankfully remained unopened. At least the other Weasley's were kind enough not to go through his letters. He suspected Ginny had offered to bring it just so she could know what it said. She was the only Weasley who didn't know about Harry's relationship with Draco - which had been done on purpose. They all knew Ginny would be terribly upset if she knew. The only problem was, this made Ginny suspicious about anyone Harry talked to... ever. She constantly thought the letters Harry received were from some penpal girlfriend. If only they could tell her the truth.

Harry opened the letter and a stick fell out of it. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a wand. George glanced down at the wand in his hands and quickly hid the tool behind his back. Harry glanced at George and back at the wand. Okay. They had to play this cool. Fred wished he could tell what was going on. He had to rely on his hearing for everything.

"Hey... Fred, isn't this your wand?" Harry asked, looking at George. He felt odd for calling George by his brother's name. George tilted his head to the side. Harry tossed the wand to him, and he caught it safely with both hands. After a moment of examination, he smiled.

"Yep! This is mine alright! Tell him I said thanks," George replied, lacing his voice with joy perfectly. Good thing he'd hidden his real wand.

"What do you mean? I thought you had your wand already," Ginny said, regarding her brother curiously. She seemed to look him over. Could she tell this was George?

"No. My wand was taken from me when I was captured by Malachite's forces," George explained. When Ginny looked back at Harry, George let his eyes flicker to Fred and back. Fred was staring back at him. Draco must have sent that letter then. Who else would send Fred his wand back?

"Well who's the letter from?" Ginny asked. She seemed a bit suspicious about how Fred could get his wand back through a letter if it had been taken by the enemy.

Harry looked down at the letter, although he already knew who'd sent it. He smiled. The letter was obnoxiously short. It only contained one word. 'Tonight'.

"An inside source," Harry replied, turning the paper over to Ginny. She glanced at it and appeared confused. "Go tell Hermione. Malachite's forces will appear tonight."

"Right," Ginny rid herself of all suspicion and doubt. Her features were determined. She gave one last look at George. "Feel better, Fred," she said and rushed from the room.

No one moved until they heard the roar of the fire whisking the youngest Weasley out of the house. All three men visibly relaxed. Fred pushed himself to his feet and held his head. Wow he was dizzy. His mom hadn't been lying. He was still feeling the after effects of half killing himself on the stairs.

"Here," George spoke up to warn him. Without looking over, Fred held his hand out and caught the wand that was tossed at him. He smiled happily as his hand held it in that oh so familiar way. George's wand was identical, but there was nothing better than having your own wand.

"Thanks," Fred nodded and replaced himself on the couch. He leaned heavily back into the cushions and spun his wand in his hands. He stopped it for a moment and grinned, realizing he was doing the same thing as George.

"We're going to attack them tonight," Harry spoke up. "I think it'll be best if you two stay here, though. Fred's still not in perfect condition and George... well you know why."

George grunted and Fred glared. The brothers exchanged a look and then they both sighed.

"Fine," Fred agreed. "Go off and do your 'hero' thing."

"If you could come, I'd let you, Fred, but you're injured," Harry said with a smile. "Remember? You're dying. You said it yourself."

"Not fair, Potter," Fred whined. "You can't use my words against me like that."

"Oh Contraire, but I can," Harry replied smugly. "Now, I'm going to go join your family and plan the attack. I'll come tell you how things went as soon as I can. Until then, stay put and stay safe, alright?"

"Now Harry. When have we ever disobeyed an order?" Fred asked.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Harry asked suspiciously. Fred cracked a grin.

"No."

Harry rolled his eyes and stood up. Fred wished him luck as he disappeared from the room. As soon as the fire roared to life down in the kitchen, Fred turned to face his brother. He had the most devious look in his eyes.

"Spell or not, if you're George Weasley, you'll be thinking the same thing I am right now," Fred declared. George's face broke into a smile.

"We're not going to do what he said, are we?" he asked. Fred laughed.

"No. No we're not."


	17. Chapter 17

Fred stepped out the front door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He stayed right on the doorstep, making sure not to accidentally show himself to outsiders. He looked around himself for a moment and then vanished from the area. Hundreds of miles away, Fred reappeared, standing in the garden right outside his beloved home. Fred took a deep breath and realized it seemed like he hadn't been here in months when, in truth, it had only been days.

Fred began to walk briskly across the gnome infected garden. From the bushes, cuss words were being thrown at him. Fred smiled in recognition of the gnomes. He remembered when they'd taught the gnomes those nasty words. They took forever to remember them properly, but it had been worth it to hear their mother scream.

Fred did not go inside his house. Instead, he leaned outside the window to the kitchen. As he figured, everyone was inside at the dinner table. The moon was vanishing below the horizon, stars already appearing in the far eastern sky. Fred kept himself as far in the corner of the window as possible. He didn't want them to catch him, but if he needed to be able to glance in, the corner was the best option.

He could hear the murmurs from his family floating out through the crack in the window. Thank goodness it was open at all. He may not have been able to hear anything if the window had been closed.

From the sounds of it, they'd all be apparating to the spot instead of using the fireplace. That was probably obvious since Harry had never mentioned the plan including a house. Damn. Fred moved away from the window and stood up. He put his hand out to the side a little, and it vanished. Fred smiled and apparated inside the house, into the livingroom. His hand reappeared, and he walked into the kitchen.

"Hey," he greeted happily. All eyes spun to see who had entered their midst.

"Fred," Harry said.

"When did you get here? I didn't hear the fireplace at all," Ron pointed out. Fred shrugged.

"You must've been too wrapped up in your plans. Come on. I'm feeling loads better, and I want to help. I can't just sit back," Fred explained.

"No. Fred, you should stay behind and -," Mr. Weasley began

"Alright," Harry interrupted him.

"Harry!" Miss Weasley gasped. Obviously, she'd thought Harry would be on the side that told Fred to stay. After all, Harry had been there when Fred fell.

"He wants to come, and he seems fine. After all, they kidnaped him. Maybe he wants some revenge or something... We'll need all the help we can get anyway. Not to mention... Honestly, guys. You really think he'll stay behind just because we tell him to?" Harry asked, casting his gaze over the entire group. Hermione smiled and Ron snickered.

"You're so right," Ron admitted. "He'd find some way to follow us, no doubt."

Fred smiled broadly. Harry's eyes flickered to something behind Fred, and the Weasley twin gave him an innocently curious look. It was too innocent for a Weasley twin.

"Something wrong, Harry?" he asked. Harry shook his head.

"No. Just thinking," Harry replied and turned his gaze to the table. Fred nodded and leaned against a chair.

Harry was no idiot, Fred knew that. He already seemed to know why Fred was here despite being told not to come. Something lightly kicked Fred's heel. Fred lightly kicked back at it, making it appear as if he just wanted to shift his foot position. Yes. That little flicker of something Harry had spotted had definitely been George's shoes. Well, technically they were Fred's shoes, but they counted.

Harry had never taken his invisibility cloak back, but why should he? It had been safely tucked away in his house. Fred just had to grab it from where he'd left it the day he'd captured George. Now George was behind him, hiding under that invisibility cloak. Fred just took his brother's hand and apparated him wherever they needed to go.

"Alright. I'll take Fred since he's never been there before," Harry offered. "We should probably head over there now."

Fred had the feeling he'd missed some conversation while he was thinking just now. Either way, he liked that plan. The others seemed to agree and began to disappear from the room one by one. Harry put his hand on Fred's shoulder.

"Ready?" he asked. Fred nodded. He put one hand on Harry's arm while his other hand went behind his back. Harry didn't miss that. Fred closed his hand around his brother's as he felt it connect with his own palm. Fred nodded again. Harry stared right into Fred's eyes and the three bodies left the house.

The hill where they appeared was dark, but it was late so that was to be expected. Fred stumbled back away from Harry, his hand leaving the younger male's arm. Harry looked him over quickly to make sure he was okay and then nodded.

"Keep low and be careful," he whispered. Then Harry turned and dashed into the bushes where Fred could barely see Ron and Hermione hiding.

Fred nodded to no one and found a spot farther down the hill. He could see his family hiding all around. He picked a spot of trees that wasn't being hidden around. He leaned back against a tree and sighed.

"Are you okay?" George's voice asked. Fred snickered.

"I should be asking _you_ that. You've gotta be having a heat stroke under that cloak," Fred said. "You don't mind, right?"

"No. I'm honestly just glad to be outside," George replied maybe too honestly.

"Just stay low. Remember, no one knows you're here," Fred reminded.

"Right, right. But I'm still going to try and help," George murmured. Fred nodded with a grin.

For a while, Fred just stared at where he suspected George to be sitting. He just watched that spot with the most pleasant smile he could muster. George seemed to fret under his gaze and pulled the hood of the cloak off.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" he asked harshly, voice low. Fred smiled like he wanted to laugh.

"Staring at you? George, you're invisible. I couldn't stare at you if I wanted to," Fred pointed out. George blushed lightly and lowered his head.

"Right."

Someone whispered harshly to alert someone else. It wasn't directed at the twins, but both turned to see what the problem was. George quickly hid himself just in case. However, no one had noticed the second twin's head. No, the alert was something else entirely. Up the hill, breaking through the trees and making their way toward the city, were the death eaters. Fred noticed Malachite in front, followed by his entire horde, it appeared, including Niccolo and Wayne.

One person was missing though. Draco. Oh no, wait. Draco was there, hidden under a hood that made his bright blonde hair less noticeable. Fred nodded. They were finally here. As Fred watched Malachite draw ever closer, he felt his chest burn in rage. He was ready to do it... to finally kill that bastard. This would be the day Malachite died and George came back to them... to _him_.


	18. Chapter 18

Like evil, black moths the cluster of hooded wizards descended toward the town. They never got near the town, however. The hiding group held their breath as they waited. When the enemy was spread out before them, Hermione held out her wand and a dark mist encompassed the area. Malachite noticed it first and rushed to leave the area. That's when he hit the invisible wall. The mist was gone, save for the thin layer that laid in a circle around the chosen area.

Hermione murmured something under her breath and pointed her wand at the death eaters. Fred could guess what she'd done, since no change was evident. She'd performed an anti-apparition spell. Then, as one, the group raised their wands and shot. Spells launched out of the bushes and hit the unsuspecting wizards.

Fred glanced around quickly. Everyone was jumping up and charging the enemy except the twins and Harry. Harry gave Fred a look that said 'stay down' before also leaving for the fight. The wizards were shocked, stunned. They scrambled to launch a counter attack. One nearly succeeded, but Draco caught him in the back with a curse before he could finally do anything.

Ginny cast a couple body locking spells while the Weasley parents hexed the enemy to pieces. Hermione and Ron were double teaming a little cluster of the newest members of Malachite's group. Nothing really life threatening was happening, but the death eaters were obviously losing.

"Stay here," Fred ordered.

"No. If you're going, then so am I," George argued. Fred glared at George.

"No. You're staying. I'm not going to lose you again. I want you somewhere that I know you'll be safe... somewhere I can find you later," Fred explained, face losing it's glare as he spoke. He pulled the cloak off George's head.

"I can fight just fine," George declared. "I'll be useful. Don't count me out just yet. Besides, I need to talk to Malachit-."

George was cut off by Fred's face moving in close and their lips connecting. Fred's eyes were closed, but George's were wide. Fred pulled away, eyes sliding back open easily. He gauged George's expression. It was still, eyes wide and mouth open ever so slightly. He seemed to be trying to understand the point and reasoning behind Fred's actions. Fred smiled at George's shocked features.

"When you get your memories back, please forget I did that," he murmured. Then he pulled the hood back over George's head and left his brother there in the bushes.

Fred couldn't lie and say he hadn't been a little hurt by George's reaction to the kiss. Then again, it was logical. George didn't remember all their times together that made Fred like him this way. Even if he did, they were brothers, twins. They were guys. They didn't have a choice. Fred didn't have a choice. He'd had to hide these feelings for years. He could hide them for more. He kept telling himself that. For George's happiness, Fred could hide these hideous, wrong feelings. No. They weren't wrong. Love wasn't wrong, so they weren't wrong. He'd just accidentally fallen for the hardest person in the world possible.

Fred's feelings had chosen the hardest path, but he was okay with that. As long as he could see George happy. Right now, that meant beating these rogues and getting George's memory back.

Fred launched himself at a wizard aiming at Harry. He shot some hexes at a pair of wizards to his right. The effects were similar to some of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Fred jumped to his feet and looked around for Malachite. He spotted the leader about thirty feet away, at the edge of the blocked off area. He was using the wall as backup, not letting anyone sneak up on him.

Fred took a step toward Malachite when his leg decided to go wonky. He suddenly just couldn't feel it enough to control how much weight it could handle. Fred tripped because of this and fell to the ground. He cursed, the feeling already back in his leg. He pushed himself up and saw a wizard before him. It was the one he'd tackled before.

He pointed his wand right at Fred's face and smirked. Fred glared. He let out a battle cry as he shoved the wand away from his face and shot a curse at the evil wizard. In a flash of white light, the man was blown back from Fred. Fred huffed. He sat up on his knees and suddenly became queasy.

Damn falling down the stairs. He managed to stand and continue to fight for a few more minutes, rendering three men unconscious. He was hit with another dizzy spell, almost like waves were running into him from somewhere. Fred forgot what he was trying to do besides incapacitate his enemies. Wasn't he aiming for someone exactly? Oh!

Malachite!

He'd almost forgotten in his rushing and dizzying mind. He turned to see if the leader was still against the wall. That's when he was blasted off his feet, his wand flying several feet away. It took Fred a moment to realize what had happened. He was staring up at the night sky in shock when someone stepped into his vision. Fred propped himself up on his elbows and glared. It was Niccolo.

"Feisty one... The only reason I didn't kill you first is that I had to make sure you weren't Georgie. He went missing, you know. Although... I'm pretty sure _you_ had something to do with that. No worries. We'll capture one of your friends and find out where you're hiding him," Niccolo said. He glared, his mouth set in a firm line.

Fred could almost literally see the spell being thought. He was almost positive this spell wouldn't leave him breathing. The tip of Niccolo's wand began to glow dimly. Then everything was purple. Yes, a bright purple light encompassed everything in a split second. When the light cleared, Fred was still alive and breathing. Fred realized he was panting, shock and adrenaline running through him.

George was standing next to him, fully visible, and glaring ahead. Niccolo was laying flat on his back a good fifteen feet away, unconscious. Without noticing, several of Niccolo's comrades stepped on him. Fred gasped and looked at George.

"George! Did you-?" he began. George smiled down at him and nodded.

"Don't worry. He's not dead. Though he should be," George murmured the last part under his breath. Fred barely caught it.

"George?!" Ginny's voice rang out. Several heads turned to look. Several eyes widened as they watched George pull Fred to his feet and the twins smile at each other. For Fred, it was like he was in a movie. Everything else seemed quieter, nonexistent. George had just run in and saved his life. He was smiling like his old self. Had Malachite died somehow without Fred noticing?

Out of all the people watching, the ones with flaming red hair looked away. They took advantage of the stunned pauses of their enemies and took them out. They must be shocked to see George like that as well. Across the field, Harry stood over Malachite. He grit his teeth. He didn't want to kill anyone but... he had no choice. Malachite was saying something, but Harry couldn't let it distract him. This was the only way to get George back. But maybe...

"Release George from your spell or I'll kill you," Harry threatened. Malachite seemed to debate the idea. Neither took the time to look over at the twins as they became a spectacle for everyone else.

"Deal," Malachite nodded. He looked at George and waved his hand in a way you'd imagine a muggle magician to.

George's smile dropped. He held his head. His face contorted in pain. Fred's smile dropped as well.

"G-George?! George, what's wrong?" Fred exclaimed. George lost his balance and fell into Fred's chest. Together they sank to the damp grassy ground. "George?!"

Harry glanced over to see what had happened. Then, with an angry grunt, his wand lit up and hit Malachite in the head. It was not the menacing green flash Malachite had expected, but it did render the man unconscious, stunned far beyond necessary.

"Harry!" Fred's voice drifted over. Harry quickly unleashed magic ropes to tie Malachite up and rushed over to the twins.

Hermione's charm wore off and the few conscious enemies retreated on foot, still not able to apparate. The Weasley's and Hermione began to head for Fred and George, hope springing forth in their chests. Harry stopped them all by barking orders. Bind the enemies and take them to the ministry, he said. He'd take George home. Still, Ron wouldn't listen. He demanded to come along.

"Alright. Hurry, Ron! We need to go," Harry yelled. Ron rushed over while his family hesitated. No one moved until Harry and Ron were gone from the clearing, a teary eyed Fred and unconscious George along with them.


	19. Chapter 19

Fred opened his eyes slowly. He was sitting in a chair, leaning against a bed. As he lifted his head off the comforter, he realized it was George's bed. The night before came rushing back to him. They'd apparated here after the fight with Malachite. Malachite and his minions were in the hands of the ministry by now, no doubt. George had been unconscious by the time they'd gotten him in bed, but he didn't seem to be any more peaceful in sleep. Somewhere downstairs, the clock in the livingroom chimed with George's hand returning to 'home'. Fred had decided to stay up and watch George for signs that he was okay while the others went to sleep or finished up business.

He didn't remember falling asleep.

Still, now that he was awake again, he took the time to examine his brother. George's face was more relaxed now. Good. His body was no longer tense, his forehead no longer creased. He appeared to be having a simple, sweet dream. Fred smiled.

He wondered what time it was and how long George would sleep. It didn't matter much. They knew where Malachite was if they needed anything from him. Fred wasn't worried. Now that George was calm, so was Fred.

He didn't know how long he'd been staring, but suddenly George began to move. George's eyes cracked open, light shining into them. Fred didn't move or speak. George's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. George's eyes slid over and looked at Fred, sitting innocently by the bed.

"Fred," he breathed out. Fred smiled.

"Morning sleepy head," the younger greeted. George snickered.

"I think you mean 'afternoon.' Have you looked at the sun?" George asked.

"No. I guess I haven't," Fred laughed a little. He'd only been staring at George. Suddenly George sighed sadly and frowned. He looked up at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"For what?" Fred asked, leaning on the bed again.

"For forgetting. I feel awful. I attacked you... and hurt you... I was cruel to you and made you cry," George replied grievously. He frowned deeper. His left hand raised up and covered his eyes as he sighed again.

"It's alright, George.... Do you remember everyone now?" Fred asked. George nodded slowly. "Then everything's fine. It's in the past. I never told the others what happened, so it doesn't matter."

"It does," George grunted. He pushed himself up and bit his lower lip.

"I'm telling you, everything's fine. Don't worry about i-," Fred began, but George interrupted him.

"Everything is not fine!" he argued back, voice raised but not yelling. He almost sounded angry. "I-....," George grabbed Fred's arm and pulled it over to him. He gripped Fred right on his wrists, on the remaining evidence of their brutal treatment during his confinement. It was supposed to show Fred his point. Still...

Fred smiled softly. He put his hand on George's head.

"Think nothing of it. It wasn't your fault. And Weasley's shouldn't sigh like that, especially George Weasley. He shouldn't frown like that," Fred said, using Harry's words for inspiration. "Smile for me, George."

George rolled his eyes. Fred wasn't getting it so he sighed in sacrifice.

"How can you be like that?" He asked exasperated-ly. Fred chuckled.

"Because I'm Fred Weasley," he replied like it was obvious. "And who are you?"

George stared at Fred for a moment. Then he smiled. Finally, a George Weasley smile.

"I'm George Weasley," he finally said proudly.

Fred laughed and jumped onto the bed. He wrapped his arms tightly around George. The gratification it brought him, having George's arms wrap around him in response, was amazing. George's arms were warm and welcoming, familiar. He felt George's grip tighten around him, squeezing him close.

"I'm sorry I was away for so long," he murmured into Fred's hair. Fred smiled.

"It's okay," he replied. They stayed like that for a moment before Fred chuckled.

"What?" George asked.

"Nothing," Fred said as he pulled away. "But can you imagine how the others are going to react when they see you walk into the kitchen - especially mum?"

At the idea, they both started to laugh. They continued to laugh as they got out of the bed and prepared George to be shown off like a trophy.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

Fred opened the bedroom door. As he stepped into the hall, George's hand enclosed his own and held it tightly. George was probably only after the support, but Fred let his mind believe this was an act of love - the same kind of love Fred felt for George.

Their footsteps heading down the stairs did not go unnoticed. A group gathered around the bottom landing, filling up the livingroom. George took a deep breath and stepped off the last stair. No one moved or spoke. They just stared at the twins, standing side by side. George smiled and Miss Weasley's eyes filled with water.

"Hi," was all George could think of to say. Miss Weasley's hands flew over her mouth as she began to cry.

"Oh blessed be!.... You're really-.... You've really come back!" she cried. She stepped forward and pulled George against her, crying uncontrollably. Fred was forced to release George's hand. He stepped back up the stairs a few feet. There he sat while everyone swarmed over George, crying and hugging and welcoming him home. People couldn't get enough of touching George to make sure he was real.

Their voices swirled together into a pleasant mix. It was the sound of a warm family, a warm home. Fred watched from afar as everyone took their turns ruffling George's hair and feeling his face, hugging him tightly, and kissing his cheeks - for the girls of course. Something flashed in the kitchen and Miss Weasley left the group to go check on lunch.

Harry left to help her. He'd already seen George several times. Fred's heart felt swollen, in a good way. He smiled down at George and his family. They were all so happy. He was glad he hadn't told them about George's memory issue. He would hate to have ruined this moment like that. As it was, they were all free to be blissfully unaware that George had ever forgotten, ever done anything wrong.

Fred felt his smile turn sad. His heart felt full and glad, but he was now forced to face the facts. George was back with his memories. He no longer needed to depend on Fred to move around the house, to learn things from Fred's biased point of view. Now George was able to remember that they were brothers and would no longer be tempted to kiss Fred. And why hadn't George brought up Fred's kiss in the woods yet?

It didn't matter.

Fred took a deep breath and stood up. He left back up the stairs without anyone looking up. George was back home, back to normal. He should be unbearably happy. Yet, he found himself overwhelmed with sadness, more potent than the joy. Why couldn't he stop being an idiot for a few milliseconds and be happy for everyone else? Idiot.

Fred went to his window and looked out over the Borrow. He spotted a nook in a large tree that stood in the center of the garden. He remembered it covered in snow and yet the memory was so very warm. Fred's eyes widened as he realized there were tears slipping down his cheeks. He didn't even feel them pricking at his eyes. They were just there. Fred wiped at them furiously, drying his cheeks with the back of his sleeve.

"Fred? Are you crying?"


	20. Chapter 20

_He remembered there was fire. There was wreckage and ruble littering the ground. There were people running everywhere, cheering or retreating. There were lots of voices resounding off of the remnants of the walls._

_He remembered it was dark. It was so dark that the moon was like a beacon, slicing through the fog of night whenever the clouds would allow. The shadow cast by the looming castle gave a false sense of security._

_You couldn't see anything. Fred couldn't see anything. It all happened so fast. One second, they were celebrating on the lawns of the school, the next second his world was in pieces. George had been standing beside him, laughing at something he'd said. Words were so pointless now. Something glittered in the moonlight and then Fred was off his feet, ripped down by something he couldn't see._

_George tried to defend him, protect him. Fred scrambled to do the same for George. They couldn't even see their attackers, hooded in dark cloaks and hidden in the even darker shade of the trees. Their spells were guessing shots. Their loud incantations drew friends over, but it was too late._

_Fred was hit with something that cut him up and knocked the wind out of him. He heard George scream. Then everything was silent. Fred tried to pull himself up, to see what had happened to George. All he managed to catch was the glint of someone's wicked smile as the moon finally illuminated the grounds. Then Fred was alone, and Fred lost consciousness._

_He managed to wake up only moments later. The force of being carried had jarred him awake. That's when the fear set in. No one was carrying George, not even George's lifeless body. Where was he? Where had he gone? What had happened while he'd been unconscious?_

_That's when the screaming started._

_Fred couldn't stop himself. Panic rushed through him uncontrolled, unrestrained. His voice rang out and caught the attention of people in the castle, little faces popping up in the windows. He must have sounded horrible, voice laden with grief and worry... so much sorrow. He struggled with all his strength, with what hadn't ebbed away due to his wounds. He didn't care about the pain, about the strain on his voice and limbs. He just wanted to run back to those woods, to where George was. He was sure of it. Just beyond the shadows of the trees._

_The next thing he recalled was waking up in the hospital wing. He must have been charmed into sleeping. Tears, hot and fast, ran over his cheeks, soaking the pillow on which his head rested. He hadn't checked to see who was around, what time it was, or where he was. As soon as he opened his eyes, he let the feelings rush out. He just hoped to god that it had all been a really bad dream._

_Fred's throat was sore from screaming, his body numb after healing. He looked to his side and saw the rows of beds full of people he didn't know. Yes. This was still Hogwarts, after the battle. If that wasn't a dream, then the battle with George must have been real as well. Yes. Fred knew. It had all been true and painfully real._

_George was gone._

_He could feel it in his bones, in his being. His heart ached and he curled into a ball on the bed. He covered his head with his hands as if in fear.... and cried. He cried completely silent, distraught tears. He didn't care about the way the pillow grew damp and smeared his tears around on his face. He didn't care when an extra blanket was added over him. He didn't even care when someone appeared and hugged him close. It wasn't George._

_Someone whispered 'I'm sorry' into his ear. The voice was unfamiliar right now. Fred couldn't register who it could possibly be. 'We tried, Fred,' it insisted. Fred could hardly hear the tone used. 'We couldn't find him. I'm sorry... He's gone.'_

' _He's gone.'_

_And the tears stopped. Fred's body continued to shake, but it was no longer wracked with sobs. His eyes stopped producing tears. For that moment, Fred felt frozen. He swore his heart had stopped as well. His blood paused in his veins. He didn't even think he was breathing. For one long moment, Fred felt nothing. Then his chest began to burn, and he took in, what felt like, his first breath of air._

' _Fred?' the voice against his ear asked. Now he could recognize it. It was his mother. He wished it wasn't her. He wished it was Harry, Ron, or Hermione. He wished it wasn't his mother._

_Fred wiped his tears away and lifted off his wet pillow. Fred's chest was swollen in sorrow, but he would change that. Fred decided right then what he would do. He would find George and bring him home, no matter where he may be._

– – – – –

"Fred?" a voice sounded from the doorway. "Are you crying?"

Fred shook his head and turned to look at his brother. George was standing in the doorway, watching him. Why wasn't he downstairs with the others?

"What happened?" Fred asked.

"Lunch is ready. I came to get you," George explained. He was stepping closer. Fred took a deep breath.

"Thanks," he said with a smile. "I'll come down in a minute."

"Fred.... You don't have to pretend around me," George murmured. He got right in Fred's face and smiled. "I can read you better than anyone, remember?"

"Right," Fred replied with the same smile. "Sorry. You're right. I was crying, but I don't even know why. They just started.... to fall."

George nodded. He placed his hands on either side of Fred's head and leaned Fred' head down. He kissed Fred on the top of his head and then looked him in the eyes. Fred was blushing now. He couldn't help it. He'd originally thought George was going to kiss him on the lips. Fred turned his eyes away.

"It's alright to cry, Fred. Still, I hope you only have to cry when you're really happy. You know I hate to see you all upset," George said. His hands hadn't moved.

' _Why is it... that when I see you all upset... I want to...'_ George's voice from Grimmauld Place rang in Fred's ears. His blush darkened. That was when George had nearly kissed him.

"Fred," George's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Yea?" Fred asked. He kept his eyes cast away, unable to bring himself to look George in the eyes just yet. He had to get used to George being normal again.

"Why wont you look at me?" George's voice said. It seemed to echo from back in Grimmauld Place, and, just like last time, Fred turned surprised eyes on George. George looked the same as before, mildly confused and crossed with worried.

"I'm sorry," Fred replied, a small smile gracing his lips. "I wasn't listening. Were you trying to ask me something?"

George nodded. He leaned his face closer to Fred's and tilted his head a little. Their faces were so close. Fred could feel George's breath on his lips. His eyes fluttered shut, but George paused.

"Do you want me... to kiss you?" he asked in a soft, sensual voice. Fred took in a slow breath of air.

"Yeah," he murmured back. George smiled. His hands slipped off of Fred's face and instead fell onto the back of his head.

"Alright," George replied.

Suddenly, footsteps were heard coming toward the door. Harry knocked on the wall before he looked in.

"Guys?" he asked. Both Weasley twins tensed and frowned. Fred opened his eyes. George was still holding him, staring right into his eyes. Harry was stunned in the doorway.

"Oh forget it. Just kiss me," Fred groaned. He put his hand on the back of George's head and smashed their lips together. They pulled away a painfully short moment later, but it felt like forever.

They released each other's heads, but Fred kept his hand on George's shoulder. George turned to Harry with a devilish little smile on his face - something you would expect from a Weasley twin.

"We're coming," he replied to Harry's unasked question.

"Oh alright," Harry answered dumbly. He nodded and left the doorway. They heard him stumble down the stairs.

"Hope he doesn't fall," Fred thought aloud. George snickered as he remembered Fred's stair issue. Fred making that comment was almost ironic. "You think he'll be okay?"

"I think he'll be fine. I'm sure he saw this coming already. Besides, he's gay with Malfoy. He can't hold a grudge against us for anything anyway," George pointed out.

"Right," Fred laughed. "And if he does, we'll blackmail him."

"Right," George agreed. He leaned in and stole one more kiss before he led his brother down the stairs. At lunch, George received a lot of stares just for being there, but it didn't matter. The only ones who didn't look at George as often as they could were Harry, Draco, and Fred. They were the only ones who knew what had happened to George, and it would stay that way.

Under the table, George's hand slipped over and grabbed Fred's. Fred glanced up at George, a little smile on his face. Everyone else though they were sharing an inside joke about the question George was answering. They didn't care what everyone else thought. They knew what had really been shared between their eyes.

Fred was shocked. He'd been gradually growing to love George more and more over the last, what, 12 years of life? He'd been painfully aware of his attraction for nearly 9 of those years. Not once had he ever thought that George loved him the same way. Yet he was happily proven wrong on that point. He felt his heart do a back flip as George squeezed his hand. They shared another look. Again, only they knew what was passing between their eyes.

'I love you.'

'I love you too.'

'This is so cliche.'

'I know. Who cares?'

**_The End_ **


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